The setting sun descended westward, dusk gathered on all sides, and the nine-layered palace towers stood majestically. Glass palace lanterns lit up one by one throughout the imperial halls, their candlelight brilliant, illuminating the heavens.
This was an unusual night, for today was New Year’s Eve—a day for families to reunite.
During the day, Huangfu Wushuang had joined with all court officials to hold a grand sacrificial ceremony outside the imperial city, celebrating his first New Year since ascending the throne and praying for Heaven’s blessing of favorable weather and abundant harvests for the Southern Dynasty.
At nightfall, another banquet was held in Qianqing Hall for ruler and ministers to celebrate together.
Inside Qianqing Hall: silk and bamboo instruments, fine wine and beautiful people.
Outside Qianqing Hall: gazing at the night sky, countless fireworks suddenly bloomed, beautiful and brilliant. Inside the great hall, music drifted melodiously in a scene of singing and dancing prosperity. Hua Zhuyu stood constantly beside Huangfu Wushuang, watching this young emperor in dragon robes raising his cup to drink freely, watching all the officials raise their cups together speaking celebratory toasts, watching all this luxury and extravagance.
Her gaze involuntarily turned to the position where that person usually sat. Now an elderly official occupied that place. In this magnificent palace, that person’s figure was nowhere to be seen.
“Little Bao’er, what’s wrong?” Huangfu Wushuang held a white jade cup, already empty of wine, his distinct black and white eyes churning with indescribable emotions as he examined her.
Only then did Hua Zhuyu realize her thoughts had been wandering. She quickly smiled and walked to the table, picking up the wine pot to fill Huangfu Wushuang’s cup with fine wine.
“Your Majesty, Ji’s crimes have been established. How does Your Majesty plan to deal with him?” Right Prime Minister Nie Yuanqiao suddenly stood up and asked loudly.
Upon hearing this, Hua Zhuyu’s dark eyebrows furrowed slightly as she listened intently.
The great hall, which had been filled with dancing, singing, and lively festivities, suddenly fell silent as death due to Prime Minister Nie’s single sentence. Complex expressions flashed across the officials’ faces as they all focused their gaze on Huangfu Wushuang.
Huangfu Wushuang leaned back against the table, holding his wine cup and gently rotating it once. His sharp gaze swept over the officials from above the cup’s rim as he calmly asked Minister of Justice Lu Dingzhi at the banquet: “For the great crime of treason, how should it be handled?” Lu Dingzhi was the new Minister of Justice appointed after Huangfu Wushuang’s ascension.
Lu Dingzhi quickly rose from his seat, walked forward, and bowed as he said slowly: “The great crime of treason, according to law, deserves death—execution of the entire household.”
Huangfu Wushuang raised his eyebrows: “Execution of the entire household? The Left Prime Minister seems to have no relatives, nor concubines—executing the entire household can be waived. However, for such a great crime, according to law, how should the execution be carried out?”
Lu Dingzhi remained silent for a long while, cold sweat beading on his forehead.
“Lu Dingzhi!” Huangfu Wushuang asked with narrowed eyes.
Lu Dingzhi bowed low and answered quietly: “According to law, he should suffer lingchi—the most extreme punishment—but this punishment is extremely cruel…”
Everyone in the hall immediately gasped in shock.
Lingchi!
Lingchi, commonly called “death by a thousand cuts,” involved giving the condemned endless torment during execution—it was the cruelest punishment. Due to its cruelty, this punishment had been abandoned for many years, but Southern Dynasty law still clearly stipulated that those guilty of treason and rebellion should die by lingchi.
Hearing the word “lingchi,” Hua Zhuyu’s mind immediately buzzed, as if she had disturbed a hornet’s nest as a child and countless hornets were flying toward her with beating wings. Though she tried to maintain the frozen calm of a mirror-like lake on her face, the hand holding the wine pot began trembling uncontrollably, and she couldn’t stop it. The pot lid and body collided, making clear tinkling sounds, and the pot tilted, spilling wine all over her.
The rest of that night’s grand banquet felt like a floating dream to her. She barely remembered how the banquet ended, nor what Huangfu Wushuang said afterward—she seemed unable to hear clearly, remembering only the two words “lingchi.”
These two words seemed like awls suddenly piercing her heart, causing boundless pain.
After the grand banquet ended and the ministers withdrew, Hua Zhuyu accompanied Huangfu Wushuang out of the great hall.
The north wind struck their faces with endless cold. In the distant night sky, fireworks bloomed, extremely beautiful and brilliant.
“Little Bao’er, I know you hate Ji Fengli. On that day, I’ll allow you to personally supervise the execution. Would Little Bao’er be willing?”
Huangfu Wushuang stood under the corridor, the young emperor wearing dragon robes, his topknot crowned with a pearl that gave off warm, brilliant light, making his eyes appear pure and innocent, his lip-corner smile gentle. Even his words carried a tone of acting spoiled toward Hua Zhuyu, yet his heart was unusually ruthless.
Looking at him, Hua Zhuyu gradually felt coldness in the depths of her heart—a bone-deep coldness.
Hua Zhuyu smiled: “Your Majesty, originally this servant was going to request this assignment, but feared court officials wouldn’t agree. Since Your Majesty permits it, Little Bao’er is naturally extremely pleased. To personally watch my enemy die by the blade—this is what I’ve long anticipated. I just don’t know what those officials will think, since I am merely a eunuch after all.”
Huangfu Wushuang pouted, his sword-like eyebrows furrowing with some distress: “How about this—tomorrow I’ll promote Little Bao’er to First Rank eunuch. Your rank will be above all those officials—even the Right Prime Minister will be a rank below you when he sees you. How’s that?”
“Really?” Hua Zhuyu’s eyes immediately brightened as she said with a smile: “Your Majesty knows that this servant doesn’t really care about high office, but to suppress those old fools—this servant would be very willing.”
“Good, then it’s settled!” Huangfu Wushuang smiled.
Just after New Year’s Eve, when every household was still immersed in New Year joy, news spread throughout Yu Capital’s streets and alleys.
The Left Prime Minister who held power over the realm, the Prime Minister known as “the Southern Dynasty’s foremost gentleman,” the handsome, gentle, elegant, and devoted Ji Fengli—Ji Fengli of shocking talent and world-toppling beauty—had secretly made a marriage alliance with the Northern Dynasty, plotting rebellion to become emperor, intending to divide the Southern Dynasty’s vast territory with the northern barbarians. It was said his betrothed was none other than the Northern Dynasty’s Princess Zhuo Ya.
This case was even more shocking than last year’s case of Marquis Pingxi Hua Mu.
Many people found it difficult to imagine this as fact, unable to believe that this Prime Minister who had driven the Northern Dynasty’s enemy forces from the Southern Dynasty had done everything as hypocritical gestures.
Left Prime Minister Ji Fengli was not only the ideal lover in the hearts of the Southern Dynasty’s unmarried women, but also the undisputed hero in the hearts of men and women, old and young alike. He had reorganized the administration, managed flood control, resisted foreign enemies…
During his tenure as Left Prime Minister, he had done countless good deeds benefiting the country and people.
Why had he become a traitor overnight?
However, this matter didn’t depend on whether people believed it or not.
Outside Zhuque Gate, imperial edicts were posted high—yellow paper with black characters, written with momentous strokes, stating clearly. The final sentence read: “Scheduled for the sixth day of the first month, at the Eastern Market execution ground, death by lingchi!”
By imperial decree!
After “By imperial decree,” a vermillion seal was stamped, bright red like blood!
In previous years, the sixth day of the first month was a day for people to visit relatives and friends for New Year greetings. On this day, Yu Capital would have many folk art performances—gongs and drums, acrobatics, lantern wheels, shadow plays… In short, all of Yu Capital would definitely be lively and joyful. But this year was vastly different from previous years.
No folk arts or acrobatics were held within Yu Capital. No one was joyful or laughing; everyone wore grave expressions. Their faces were like that day’s sky—covered with dark clouds.
Around the execution platform, crowds of people pressed together. Citizens flocked here to see the Left Prime Minister off one last time.
Imperial Guards with swords dispersed one group only to face another—these people seemed possessed, insisting on pushing to the very front. Most carried a jug of wine, planning to offer Ji Fengli a final farewell drink.
Hua Zhuyu rode in a carriage through the bustling crowds to the execution ground.
She pushed open the carriage door and stepped down, meeting a blast of cold wind that felt icy against her cheeks. She looked up to see goose-feather snowflakes beginning to fall from the sky.
Yu Capital was located in the south; after New Year the weather usually warmed, making snow extremely rare. She looked up in some surprise, watching snowflakes like butterfly wings fall on her face and body, the world between heaven and earth utterly quiet.
Snow danced through the sky, the rustling sound of its landing ethereal and beautiful. She loved snow, loved its purity. Looking at the sky, she could see nothing but vast whiteness. Snowflakes fell on her eyes, melting from her cheek’s warmth into drops of water that trickled down.
As wind passed, her apricot-yellow First Rank eunuch robes fluttered fiercely in the cold wind, snowflakes swirling behind her.
Her gaze swept coldly over the surging crowds at the execution ground as she slowly ascended the steps to the supervision platform. Young eunuch Xiao Shunzi held a black-painted oil-paper umbrella to shield her from the flying snowflakes.
Her gaze wandered as she calmly surveyed the area, seeing Imperial Guard Commander Nie Ning with his guards had already surrounded the execution ground so tightly that not even water could leak through.
The crowd suddenly showed disturbance, and Imperial Guards used swords to force a passage through the people. Suddenly women’s voices began crying “wu wu,” and this sound seemed contagious, gradually growing from low to high.
“What’s happening?” Hua Zhuyu asked with furrowed brows.
“Reporting to Chief Bao, Ji’s prison cart has arrived, and those women are crying,” Xiao Shunzi reported softly.
Ji Fengli truly deserved to be the dream lover of Yu Capital’s women—even though he had committed monstrous crimes, their devotion remained unchanged! Hua Zhuyu turned and slowly withdrew, sitting on the supervision platform.
The prison cart passed through the crowd to the execution platform. She squinted toward it and saw Ji Fengli in prison clothes being brought out by Imperial Guards. The chains through his shoulder blades remained, though the shackles on his hands and feet had been removed. However, even with those removed, because his shoulder blades were still locked, Ji Fengli remained equivalent to a cripple. His black hair hung loose behind him like an ink-colored waterfall. The dark hair made his face appear particularly pale, his gaze containing a faint smile as it swept over the crowd, then suddenly turned to stare at the high platform.
Their gazes met in midair.
For a moment, on the execution ground crowded with people, it seemed only she and he existed!
All other sounds became inaudible, only falling snow dancing between them through the sky.
Hua Zhuyu’s gaze looked straight into Ji Fengli’s eyes.
Pure black, deeply secluded eyes, clear as flowing water, eyes that seemed ready to absorb her heart at any moment—now looking at her with some bewilderment. He seemed completely unprepared for her to be the execution supervisor. Then understanding flashed in his eyes, and he slowly turned, ascending the execution platform step by step.
The execution time had not yet arrived. Hua Zhuyu sat on the supervision platform with Minister of Justice Lu Dingzhi and Right Prime Minister Nie Yuanqiao.
Imperial Guards with swords cleared the area within two zhang of the execution platform, thousands of guards surrounding the platform like an impenetrable iron barrel.
As execution supervisor, Hua Zhuyu picked up the documents and read through Ji Fengli’s crimes once, then read through Huangfu Wushuang’s imperial edict and official documents once more. The execution ground was completely quiet except for the sound of falling snow and her clear, dustless voice reading Ji Fengli’s great crimes word by word.
Treason, rebellion, controlling court politics, even framing Emperor Kang… the charges were countless.
The more Hua Zhuyu read, the colder her heart became. This was the nature of court struggles—when you fell, all crimes were heaped upon you.
“Scheduled for lingchi execution at noon on the sixth day of the first month.” After Hua Zhuyu finished reading the final sentence, she felt as if all her strength had been drained, her hand so weak she could barely lift it.
She set down the documents and slowly looked toward Ji Fengli.
The cold wind was bitter, flying snow confusing—he stood in the center of the wind, in the center of the snow.
He was looking at her.
Looking at her through the sky full of flying snow.
His gaze carried pain, carried hurt, staring at her unblinkingly.
Perhaps because he was so haggard, his prison clothes appeared very loose, fluttering wildly in the cold wind. His thin lips curved slightly as he said word by word: “A beautiful voice, pity it’s not reading what Ji would like to hear. Actually, Bao’er, all along I’ve wanted to hear you sing a song for me, but sadly, I’ll never hear it in this lifetime.”
When Hua Zhuyu was reading the documents earlier, the execution ground had been very quiet, so Ji Fengli’s voice carried far—even the common people below the platform heard it. The supervision platform where Hua Zhuyu sat was very close to Ji Fengli’s execution platform, so she heard even more clearly. For some reason, her heart inexplicably began to ache.
She swept Ji Fengli with a sharp gaze and shouted coldly: “How dare you! At death’s door, you still dare speak wildly and mock the execution supervisor!”
Ji Fengli stared at her and said in a hoarse voice: “It’s precisely because I’m about to die that I dare speak the words I’ve kept bottled up in my heart.”
Hua Zhuyu’s form stiffened, her heart immediately filled with mixed emotions. She tried to maintain an unperturbed expression while gracefully turning back to her seat.
The execution time had not arrived, and waves of disturbance came from below the platform. Just then, melodious qin music suddenly drifted over, gradually suppressing the sounds of disorder.
Everyone looked toward the music and saw an ornate carriage stopped not far from the execution platform, with qin music emerging from the carriage’s curtained window. Through the window, one could vaguely see a slender figure with elaborately arranged hair plucking the strings.
The sky full of flying snow seemed like blooming jade flowers under the drifting music. The qin sounds evoked boundless grief, making one nearly overwhelmed with sorrow.
This was a song of final farewell!
“Who is playing the qin?” asked Minister of Justice Lu Dingzhi, sitting beside Hua Zhuyu, to an official nearby.
That official said quietly: “This official is also unclear—it should be some young lady who came to see Ji off. Someone go ask which family’s daughter this is.”
Soon, Imperial Guards came to report: “Reporting to Your Honor, the qin player is Third Princess.”
So it was Third Princess Huangfu Yan!
Everyone in Yu Capital knew Third Princess Huangfu Yan admired Ji Fengli. Though Ji Fengli had refused marriage with her, her devotion to him remained unchanged. Coming to see Ji Fengli off today was not surprising.
One song ended.
Another sound of pipa strings rang out, this time from yet another carriage.
“Who is playing the pipa now?” Lu Dingzhi asked.
Imperial Guards came to report: “Reporting, Your Honor, this time it’s Miss Wen.”
Hua Zhuyu couldn’t help but smile bitterly, feeling somewhat numb, her heart filled with indescribable emotions—seeming to contain every flavor yet tasting none.
Princess Huangfu Yan had come, all the women in Yu Capital who admired Ji Fengli had come, even Wen Wan, though she had harmed Ji Fengli, had also come. They were all here to see Ji Fengli off. Only she sat high on the supervision platform, serving as the execution supervisor who would kill him.
The pipa song ended, and Imperial Guards came forward to report: “Chief Bao, Third Princess wishes to see Ji off. She says she wants to pour him a farewell drink.”
“Permitted,” Hua Zhuyu said calmly.
Princess Huangfu Yan’s carriage passed through the crowd and approached. Near the high platform, the curtains lifted and Huangfu Yan stepped down from the carriage. She wasn’t wearing magnificent palace brocades, only plain white robes, her dark hair arranged in a simple upward knot without any hairpins or ornaments.
In plain white robes, Huangfu Yan walked slowly toward the platform with delicate steps, her slender hands holding a wine cup, her beautiful face sorrowful and grief-stricken. Her white dress was so mournfully white, white as the snowflakes dancing through the sky, white like—mourning clothes, white that—pierced Hua Zhuyu’s eyes.
Huangfu Yan walked to the platform holding the wine cup. Immediately, Ministry of Justice officials took it and tested it with various poison-detecting needles—a prisoner sentenced to extreme punishment absolutely could not die before execution.
After testing and finding no problems, the Ministry official bowed and returned the cup to Huangfu Yan’s hands. Huangfu Yan snorted coldly, lifted her skirts, and slowly ascended the execution platform.
“Your Excellency, I’ve come to see you off,” Huangfu Yan was originally a shy woman who had always been somewhat afraid to face Ji Fengli directly when encountering him at court. This time, however, she stared unblinkingly at Ji Fengli’s haggard face as if she could never see enough.
“Thank you, Third Princess!” Ji Fengli accepted the wine cup, drained it in one gulp, and smiled at her gently. “Third Princess, may I call you little sister?”
Huangfu Yan nodded with reddened eyes.
“Yan’er, I’m very fond of you—the fondness of a brother for a sister. I believe the Third Princess will surely find her destined ideal husband. I’m going now, Princess take care!” he said softly.
Just then, two cannon shots rang out—the execution time was approaching.
Imperial Guards came forward to escort Huangfu Yan down, but she suddenly cried out uncontrollably: “No! No…”
The Imperial Guards forcibly pulled Huangfu Yan away.
Hua Zhuyu also heard the cannon shots, which made her heart suddenly contract.
Two cannon shots meant the executioner should prepare. After one incense stick’s time, another cannon shot would signal the execution time.
Hua Zhuyu painfully shifted her gaze to the execution platform, where Ji Fengli still stood quietly.
Actually, Hua Zhuyu felt from her heart that Ji Fengli wouldn’t die! Because she knew his capabilities. She thought he must have contingency plans—otherwise, he would never have allowed himself to be imprisoned without resistance, never would have walked so calmly onto the execution platform.
But the time was approaching, and there was still no movement around the execution ground.
The cold wind grew increasingly bitter. Ji Fengli’s loose prison robes were thin, blown in all directions by the wind.
Wind filled his sleeves, wind stirred his prison clothes, wind lifted his dark hair. It seemed that in the blink of an eye, he would disappear into the wind, vanish from this world.
A sudden panic seized her heart.
The crowd below the platform stirred repeatedly, and just then, the executioner emerged. Behind the executioner was an assistant who stepped forward and stripped off Ji Fengli’s upper garment, exposing his shoulders, revealing the shoulder blades pierced by shackles, exposing his chest. Ji Fengli’s entire upper body was now bare, and the man also went to remove Ji Fengli’s pants, causing immediate disturbance in the crowd.
Someone shouted loudly: “Leave His Excellency some dignity!”
The crowd was indignant. Hua Zhuyu bit her lower lip with her silver teeth, her hands constantly trembling within her wide sleeves.
Hearing this, the executioner stepped forward and with a forceful tear, ripped Ji Fengli’s pants into two halves, leaving both legs naked and exposed to the cold wind.
The assistant then took out a large fishing net and covered Ji Fengli with it. The net tightened, making the muscles on his body bulge in segments.
The executioner calmly opened the wooden box in his hands, revealing more than ten knives of different shapes and sizes. He selected a narrow, sharp small knife and stood ready on the execution platform, waiting for the final cannon shot, waiting for the execution token in Hua Zhuyu’s hand to fall to the ground.
In the crowd, crying grew louder and louder.
Sitting on the supervision platform, Hua Zhuyu suddenly felt completely weak—if she hadn’t been sitting in a chair, she thought she might very well have collapsed to the ground. After one incense stick’s time would come that cannon shot marking execution time—no, less than one incense stick remained.
She suddenly stood up from her chair and strode quickly forward.
“Chief Bao, what are you doing?” Right Prime Minister Nie asked in cold surprise.
Hua Zhuyu turned back, smiled, and said: “Ji is my enemy. I want to personally watch him suffer lingchi to resolve the hatred in my heart.” She spoke word by word with a charming expression, though her eyes were full of coldness.
Nie Yuanqiao was stunned, frowning as he watched Hua Zhuyu stride quickly toward the execution platform.
Hua Zhuyu walked step by step up the platform with her hands behind her back. The wind was extremely fierce at this height, making her apricot-yellow eunuch robes flutter loudly like dancing butterfly wings.
“First remove his fishing net and put his clothes back on. I have questions for him,” she said coldly.
The executioner and his assistant looked at each other, then immediately began removing the fishing net covering Ji Fengli and putting his prison clothes back on. However, the torn pants below couldn’t be worn, so Hua Zhuyu untied the cloak from her body and threw it over with the wind, covering Ji Fengli.
“You two go down first!” Hua Zhuyu stood at a corner of the platform with her hands behind her back, her expression unreadable.
The two men hesitantly withdrew from the platform. Hua Zhuyu slowly turned and gazed calmly at Ji Fengli.
The former Left Prime Minister who had once been peerlessly graceful in flowing white robes now wore prison clothes and was covered in chains. He was obviously thinner, quite haggard, and extremely disheveled. Yet even so, he still possessed an unhurried bearing, his lips still curved in that faint, gentle smile.
Long ago, she had thought she must bring him down to see when this Left Prime Minister, who remained composed even under Mount Tai’s pressure, would finally show a panicked expression.
Honestly, she felt somewhat defeated.
She had to admit he was ruthless enough.
Even facing imminent lingchi execution, he could face it calmly.
“Ji Fengli, I’ve finally waited for this day!” She smiled at him and casually picked up a long, thin dagger from the executioner’s wooden box.
Ji Fengli wrapped himself in the cloak Hua Zhuyu had thrown to him, feeling the warmth from her body on the cloak slowly penetrating his skin and seeping into his heart.
Enough!
This was enough for him!
To receive a moment of her compassion before lingchi—he was already content.
“Bao’er, you ultimately couldn’t bear it, could you?” he asked quietly, his voice low and gentle.
Hua Zhuyu’s lips bloomed in a faint smile: “No, I just feel that letting the executioner act isn’t as satisfying as doing it myself.”
His lip-corner smile instantly froze, the light in his eyes instantly extinguished. He stared at her unblinkingly, sorrow gradually welling in his eyes.
A snowflake spiraled down onto the blade, slowly melting into water, making him imagine it was her tears falling—but it ultimately wasn’t.
The snow grew heavier, large flakes caught by the wind dancing around him. He stood there on the high platform, wrapped in her cloak as if it were the most precious fox fur and brocade in the world.
She slowly walked before him, stopped, lips tightly pressed without speaking, and struck him with the dagger in her hand. She feared that after a while she wouldn’t be able to bring herself to do it.
The first cut pierced his left arm, the second his right arm, the third his left ribs, the fourth his right ribs, the fifth his left leg, the sixth his right leg, the seventh his shoulder.
The sound of cutting skin was like wind. Blood flowed down along his skin, yet Ji Fengli felt no pain. All his senses were used only to perceive her. Her face was right before him, no more than two feet away. He looked at her eyes—those eyes that made his heart flutter—now filled with indescribable coldness.
“Bao… er… have… you… ever… resolved… your… hatred?” When she finally stopped, when his entire body was covered in blood, he slowly and gently spoke seven words.
She had cut him seven times.
He spoke seven words.
These seven words made it impossible for her to strike another blow.
These seven words caused great anguish in her heart, as if pierced by an arrow.
But this crucial final strike—she had to make it. Yet her hand trembled severely, shaking so much she could barely hold the dagger.
Suddenly her waist tightened—Ji Fengli suddenly reached out and pulled her into his embrace. With a soft sound, the final strike, due to his embrace, finally pierced his chest. “Bao’er, have you resolved your hatred this time?” he asked again.
His deep eyes stared steadily at her, the focus and deep affection in them shaking her heartstrings.
The crowd below the platform had long since erupted in chaos, and even the other officials on the supervision platform stood up in shock, looking toward them. But Hua Zhuyu could hear nothing.
This world seemed to suddenly contain only the two of them.
In her eyes, there was only him.
“Ji Fengli, do you hate me?” she asked with a trembling voice, reaching out to wipe the blood from his lips, slowly asking word by word.
Ji Fengli suddenly smiled—a brilliant smile like fireworks in full bloom, like clear wind and bright moon, making one feel the eyes were filled with colorful splendor. With that flower-plucking smile that could topple nations, even at this moment, his smile remained so enchanting.
“Bao’er, how could I hate you? What you’ve done is simply because you hate me. Before, I didn’t know you hated me so deeply. I only knew you were Ying Shuxie, Hua Mu’s subordinate, but now I think you might have had some other relationship with Hua Mu, which is why you hate me to the bone. Bao’er, I know what kind of person you are—you wouldn’t harm me without reason. So I won’t hate you, will never hate you. It’s just that I may have to go now.” His phoenix eyes showed a kind of emptiness.
“Bao’er, I’m going now. If there truly is another life, do you know what I most want to do?” he asked quietly.
“What?” Hua Zhuyu turned her head, and somehow tears were already slowly sliding down her cheeks.
“I want to pray to the King of Hell that in my next life, I won’t be born male like you again.” His words drifted quietly by her ear.
In her chest, an unexpected pain, like fireworks blooming in the night sky, suddenly exploded, catching her completely off guard. This pain wasn’t just momentary, but began to spread continuously into her bones, seeping into her internal organs—it seemed every part of her body ached.
Her tears fell like rain, her grief had nowhere to hide, and he saw her grief. Grief? Was this grief pity, compassion, or…
“Bao’er, you ultimately do care, don’t you?” His arms tightened more and more, so tight she couldn’t breathe. His chin rested on her shoulder, his cheek pressed against her temple.
His lips found hers, kissing her wildly and domineeringly. His breath instantly overwhelmed all of Hua Zhuyu’s senses, the burning kiss surging over her like an overwhelming tide.
Everything around them seemed to freeze instantly, no sound could be heard. She also seemed petrified, rigid and unable to move, only her heart swaying as if sinking.
Ji Fengli seemed to put all his life’s strength into kissing her, kissing until her lips hurt severely, kissing until her mouth was full of the taste of blood.
His kiss went from initially domineering to increasingly gentle, finally sliding away from her lips like a fallen leaf or powder butterfly. His head slowly drooped to her shoulder, and by her ear came his low murmur: “Bao’er, I love you. But I must also forget you forever!”
Hua Zhuyu felt Ji Fengli’s body slowly soften, then slowly fall backward. She reached out to embrace him at the moment of his fall. He looked at her, watching her tear-streaked face, his eyelashes slowly drooping down. Finally reaching this last step—they were destined not to be together, and everything would completely end now.
“Ji Fengli, you won’t die!” she said quietly by his ear. But he seemed not to hear.
When she came to supervise the execution, she had already received Kang’s letter and finally learned that things weren’t as she had imagined.
She hadn’t come to kill him, but to save him.
When she came, she had already bribed all the officials at the execution ground except Nie’s faction, even some Imperial Guards.
She wanted him to fake his death, to rescue him.
But…
The way he looked now, he seemed truly dead.
She looked up at the sky, snowflakes dancing everywhere, and soon covered his body.
“Is he dead?” Someone reached over to check his breathing—whether it was Prime Minister Nie or someone else, she couldn’t see clearly.
Hua Zhuyu didn’t move or speak, only stared blankly at his face.
Whenever snowflakes fell, she would reach out to brush them from his face. But the snowflakes fell more and more, and she brushed faster and faster, until finally his face was buried by snowflakes.
“He’s dead!” Someone behind her said with certainty.
He was dead!
When these three words entered her ears, Hua Zhuyu felt that the one suffering lingchi wasn’t him, but her heart. At this moment, it had shattered into thousands of pieces.