Mo Qianzhi stood still for a moment. Seeing no movement or response from inside, he finally turned and left.
Returning to his tent, he tried to lie down, but his mind was restless. Thinking of Lai Luofu’s words, “There is no antidote,” he felt suffocated. Closing his eyes, all he could see was Shen Shijie’s pale face.
Shen Du was about to die. Who would be next?
Turning over, in the darkness without even a glimmer of light, Mo Qianzhi stared into the pitch-black void, hearing only his heartbeat, pounding relentlessly, preventing him from falling asleep.
An overwhelming loneliness engulfed his entire being, and the desolation in his heart refused to dissipate.
On that day, his wife and children had jumped from the city walls of Yingzhou, the very walls he had spent over a decade building to defend against foreign enemies. The bricks were sealed with glutinous rice mixed with lime, making them impenetrable.
His wife had been an ordinary woman of the inner chambers, devoted to supporting her husband and raising their children. Even in her final moments, her thoughts were of not becoming a burden to him.
She had told him to do what he truly wanted. He asked himself, what did he want to do?
He hadn’t lost his mind, nor had he been bewitched by Chen Huoe of the Fire Moth Party. What he was planning was a groundbreaking endeavor – to overthrow the Great Zhou and establish a new world.
Why overthrow it? Because this woman had ascended to power through nefarious means. That alone might have been forgivable; after all, emperors throughout history had been ruthless, their paths to power fraught with difficulty. But the problem lay in her choice to employ someone like Lai Luozhi to eliminate her opponents, even if she needed to remove threats.
It was worth noting that when Mo Qianzhi became Shen Shijie’s disciple to learn the art of governance, Lai Luozhi had been among the lowest of society, committing all manner of evil deeds. Even when the Tongguan County magistrate had thrown him in prison, he had used his silver tongue to falsely accuse his fellow inmates, confusing truth and lies to gain benefits for himself.
This man was despised even by cats and dogs, utterly without principles. Yet the Empress had taken a liking to him, specifically establishing the Prosecutor’s Office to accommodate Lai Luozhi, granting him the rank of Junior Minister of the First Grade. His duty was to travel around denouncing officials suspected of disloyalty to the court. Once arrested and brought to the Prosecutor’s Office, they were subjected to various extreme tortures, with countless dying before they could even defend themselves.
Death itself wasn’t the issue; a man of principle might face death for his beliefs. But to die at the hands of such a contemptible person was too great an indignity.
Just like Shen Shijie, whose death was too meaningless – branded with false crimes to serve as a stepping stone for Lai Luozhi’s ascent to power. It wasn’t worth it.
If the Empress trusted such a person, what reason was there for her to remain as Empress?
He, Mo Qianzhi, would be the first to rebel, to resist until the very end, refusing to live in cowardice.
Shen Du had said he was bewitched, but no, he hadn’t lost his mind. He had always kept a firm grip on his faculties. If his will had been so weak, he would have chosen sides years ago, coming forward to give false testimony for his teacher to avoid punishment and gain promotions, just like some of his teacher’s other students.
But he hadn’t. Once a teacher, always a teacher – to this day, in his heart, Shen Shijie remained his only mentor.
However, was his persistence truly right?
The plan to overthrow the Great Zhou had made no progress.
The entire Fire Moth Party was permeated by a strange atmosphere, and Chen Huoe was particularly perplexing.
And now Shen Du was about to die, removing the last obstacle to his ambitions.
Recalling the various events of recent times, Mo Qianzhi felt that certain matters needed to be resolved tonight.
Otherwise, there might not be another chance.
He changed into his night clothes, took his sword and dagger, and after a few steps, turned back to grab some sleeping powder.
Yingzhou was a city he had built with his own hands. From a wilderness to its current prosperity, he knew every corner of Yingzhou like the back of his hand.
So while the defenses might seem impenetrable to others, he could come and go as he pleased.
It was laughable. The city of Yingzhou that he had built with his own hands was now being guarded by Shen Du, while he had become the one barred from entering.
Shen Du, do you realize that if I wanted to attack the city, it would be effortless? It’s just that… do you understand?
Shen Du’s residence hadn’t changed location. Crossing the corridor and avoiding the patrols, Mo Qianzhi easily reached Shen Du’s door and peered inside through the window frame.
Inside, Zhu Yan had just finished organizing the medicines prescribed by the physician. Seeing nothing else that needed attention, a hint of melancholy in her eyes, she pulled out a silk handkerchief to clean her hands. She then sat down by the bed, silently watching the still unconscious Shen Du.
After a while, only Zhu Yan’s soft sigh could be heard. She reached out and gently touched his face, but there was no response.
As if unwilling to give up, she reached into the brocade quilt and pulled out one of Shen Du’s hands, softly pressing it against her cheek, feeling his warmth.
Having not eaten for days, Shen Du’s face was haggard, his cheeks sunken. His eyelashes, like feather fans, concealed those deep, dark eyes. She could no longer see his penetrating, sinister, or mocking gaze.
After a long while, she reluctantly put his hand down and tucked it back under the quilt.
“When will you wake up?” she murmured, her eyes somewhat vacant.
She was terrified and felt utterly helpless. Only now did she realize that since their wedding day, she had always been under Shen Du’s protection. He was so strong, giving her all the support she needed, allowing her to investigate cases freely and come and go as she pleased.
“You’ve always protected me. Now it’s my turn to protect you.”
Zhu Yan gazed at Shen Du, lost in thought, calculating how long it would take Pan Chi to travel to and from the Western Regions.
When she became aware of the rustling sound behind her, before she could turn around, the person was already close to her back.
Instinctively, she reached for the dagger in her sleeve, but a cloth was pressed against her mouth and nose. It was sleeping powder – the substance she had encountered most often in her autopsies.
“Shen…” Du.
Zhu Yan lost consciousness and collapsed onto the bed.
Mo Qianzhi withdrew his hand, tossing the cloth aside. He circled from behind Zhu Yan and saw the unconscious Shen Du.
So Chen Huoe hadn’t lied; Shen Du was indeed on the brink of death, his life visibly ebbing away.
Inadvertently, Chen Huoe had chosen for him. Killing Shen Du would leave him with no way back.
Suddenly, Mo Qianzhi stumbled back several steps, nearly tripping over the bed frame, his tongue tied in shock:
“You…”
For Shen Du had opened his eyes, his inscrutable gaze now frosted over with an icy coldness, like the autumn weather outside.
Shen Du first glanced at Zhu Yan, ensuring she was unharmed, before turning his attention to Mo Qianzhi.
Mo Qianzhi pressed his lips together, swallowing hard, unable to speak.
After a long moment, Shen Du gently caressed Zhu Yan’s face, tenderly pulling the brocade quilt over her, as if oblivious to the other person in the room.
Mo Qianzhi, unwilling to wait any longer, broke the silence: “I should have known that the great Chief of the Imperial Guard wouldn’t be without hidden guards outside his chambers.”
Shen Du, however, only looked at Zhu Yan, affection pouring from his eyes, as if to envelop her completely.
“You must have sensed my presence from the moment I approached your quarters. Though poisoned, your senses haven’t dulled; they’re even keener than most.”
Observing the scene before him, Mo Qianzhi felt confused.
“Could it be… that you weren’t poisoned at all?”
Had he feigned illness to lure him here?
The void in Mo Qianzhi’s heart grew larger, and cold wind rushed in, causing a sharp pain.