The early summer wind carried slight warmth, passing through halls and courtyards, stirring the dense green tree shadows of Imperial Song, but could not reach the deepest underground dungeons in the northwest corner of the imperial palace.

Though it was only May, the dungeon already felt stuffy and hot. Those pitch-black iron doors and bars intensified this oppressive feeling. The faint smell of blood mixed with damp earth, the rust of iron implements, the rotting stench of food, and various sour and foul odors from human bodies combined into a nauseating mixture that made one dizzy upon breathing it.

Therefore, the palace guards who delivered food to the imperial prison each day hurried with swift steps.

Only two prisoners remained in the prison now—a former married couple. They were subjects under strict guard orders from the palace. Though many wondered why Her Majesty the Queen found it necessary to keep these two treacherous usurpers alive, the fact remained that the former emperor and empress had been living on, seemingly forgotten by Her Majesty in this gloomy dungeon.

Today’s guard delivering food to the prison carried a bowl of soup—thin egg drop soup that had gone completely cold, with the guard’s fingers casually soaking in it. He walked while chatting and laughing with his companions.

“…Don’t know what the higher-ups are thinking. People like this should just be given white silk and executed. Why keep them alive? Not only alive, but when she gets sick, they give her invalid food. Ha, when did Her Majesty become so merciful?”

Another person chuckled, “Such matters don’t reach Her Majesty’s ears. The prison warden said the order from above is just that the person can’t die. That woman is so sick, we have to manage somehow—soup, medicine, whatever, just keep her breathing.”

The group walked to the depths of the dungeon, turning left for the men’s section, right for the women’s. Several people turned right and set down the soup bowl at the innermost cell, taking out a paper package as they called out roughly, “Drink soup, take medicine!”

One person laughed, “Today it’s not hard bread anymore—egg drop soup to nourish you.”

The pile of rotten straw in the cell moved, and a disheveled face slowly emerged. The grime on her face hadn’t been cleaned for so long that her features were unrecognizable. Between the black dust, mud, and dark red blood scabs, a pair of beautifully shaped but lifeless eyes was revealed.

The guards outside the cell door watched expressionlessly, but couldn’t help thinking of the former Queen of Mingcheng, the former Empress of Mingcheng. Once the epitome of motherly dignity and wealthy elegance, now fallen to worse than pigs and dogs—such worldly fortune was truly beyond description.

However, Mingcheng seemed in no mood for melancholy reflection. Seeing the egg drop soup, light flashed in her eyes as she crawled over using both hands and feet, her shackles and chains clanking noisily.

Seeing her difficult appearance, the guards felt some pity. One crouched down to pass the bowl through the bars. Mingcheng tremblingly reached to receive it, but whether from severe illness or the weight of her chains, she couldn’t hold it steady. “Crash!”—the coarse porcelain bowl shattered.

The guards all stepped back, cursing, “Don’t you have eyes!”

Mingcheng’s lips trembled as she prostrated on the rotten straw, stammering apologies to everyone. “Your honors… it’s my fault… please forgive me…”

“Serves you right to suffer! Swallow the medicine dry yourself!” A guard casually pushed the ceramic fragments with his boot, kicking them aside before leaving with curses.

Mingcheng kept her head down, hands pressed tightly against the straw beneath her, mumbling apologies that no one could understand clearly. No one cared to listen as they all turned to leave.

The last guard to turn suddenly paused.

Mingcheng remained with head down, kneeling with both hands pressed to the ground, seemingly having lost all strength, her arms trembling slightly.

That guard stopped and stepped back, glancing at her from the corner of his eye, a strange smile suddenly appearing at the corner of his mouth.

Mingcheng never raised her head, but her arm trembling grew worse.

The guard’s boot suddenly reached through the bar gaps and kicked, knocking her arms aside. Mingcheng couldn’t support herself and fell to the ground. In the rotten straw where her hands had been pressed, something white was revealed.

A ceramic fragment.

The guard showed a knowing smile, glancing at the pile of broken bowl pieces in the corner, saying softly, “Her Majesty the Empress is quite quick—nobody noticed you hid a ceramic piece.”

Mingcheng looked up at him in despair, saying hoarsely, “I want to die… can’t I want to die!”

“You can.” That guard said unhurriedly, “But if Your Majesty truly wants to die, why did you deliberately expose the ceramic fragment under your fingers when I passed by just now?”

Mingcheng’s whole body shook. She lowered her head, gasped twice, and said weakly, “I… I felt your gaze at me was always strange, I… I wanted to test…”

That guard smiled, looking at the others who had nearly walked away, speaking quickly, “Only those who can save themselves can be saved by others. Otherwise, what use are the useless? Why take such risks? If Your Majesty can walk out of this prison herself and produce something satisfactory to my master, perhaps there’s still a chance.”

Finishing, he quickly left. Mingcheng raised her head to watch his retreating figure, slowly reaching out to grip that ceramic fragment tightly.

In her lifeless eyes, light suddenly flickered—cold, longing, hateful, excited… finally transforming into resolute killing intent, sharp as a blade edge, flashing once.

…

After talking with Mingcheng, that palace guard left the dungeon. When his duty period ended, like other palace guards, he left Yuzhao Palace to go home.

However, he walked very cautiously, taking detours and frequently checking behind him for followers. After walking for over half an hour, he arrived at a residence and rapidly knocked on the door knocker.

The door opened immediately as if someone was always waiting inside. The guard flashed inside, asking the doorkeeper, “How is the master?”

A gray-clothed middle-aged man behind the door frowned, “Don’t come seeking the master without cause. Why did you suddenly come?”

“Naturally there’s business.” The guard smiled, “That one in the dungeon is indeed restless. I’ve come to ask the master’s direction—manage or not manage?”

“Nine out of ten times, don’t manage. What use is that waste?” the gray-clothed man said. “There have been changes above. Currently part of the master’s crisis has been resolved, so there’s no need to rack our brains like before. As they say, better stillness than movement. The master has other plans—don’t cause trouble for him.”

The guard nodded disappointedly and was about to take leave when suddenly a clear, gentle voice came from inside: “Old Five has come. What matter?”

The gray-clothed man shook his head helplessly, signaling the guard to enter. The guard slipped into the room that served as a study. Despite the bright early summer weather, not a trace of light was visible in the study. All windows on four sides were covered with black gauze, and incense smoke curled from a begonia flower tripod, making vision even more blurred. One could barely make out a tall figure standing by the window with his back to the door.

The guard respectfully saluted and recounted the day’s events in the dungeon, concluding, “You instructed this subordinate that if Mingcheng showed unusual behavior, to hint at her and come report to you. Now this subordinate sees that Her Majesty the Empress seems restless.”

“Oh?” The tall figure showed no surprise, his tone light yet certain.

“Your meaning…”

“The only remaining value of Mingcheng now is the secret of the founding empress’s underground palace she holds. To kill Jing Hengbo, that place could be useful. Moreover, it’s said the founding empress’s underground palace contains secrets sufficient to control dynastic upheaval—secrets that aren’t the so-called imperial silk maps… I’m very interested in this.” The man said lightly, “But I don’t like cooperating with fools. If Mingcheng cannot save herself and doesn’t think of what I need, just silence her. Keeping her is both opportunity and disaster. Without her, I may not be unable to kill Jing Hengbo.”

“Yes.”

The guard withdrew. The man slowly turned and walked to the desk.

A black silk cloak lay draped over the chair, its dark gleam flowing like a pair of eyes staring into the night.

…

There was no day or night in the dungeon, only the distant light from overhead windows to judge the passage of time.

In the dark cell, a faint bloody scent permeated the air.

Mingcheng bit her teeth, tucking half a blood-stained map into her chest, carefully listening to sounds outside.

She trembled slightly as if from cold. A deep, bone-visible wound on her wrist still bled continuously. A broken ceramic piece, stained with blood, lay discarded to one side.

She hadn’t bandaged the wound, letting blood flow uninterrupted. A pool had already formed on the ground. Her face was pale as a ghost, but her eyes were extraordinarily bright, full of longing for life and freedom.

The more blood flowed, the more violently she shook. To seek a chance at survival, she had been ruthless with herself, but having underestimated her current poor physical condition, she now felt she might not hold out.

Don’t let me fail to last until someone comes—that would ruin everything…

Footsteps suddenly sounded in the distance, seeming earlier than usual. Mingcheng’s eyes lit up as she immediately lay down on the ground, placing her wounded hand in a conspicuous position and closing her eyes.

The dragging footsteps approached and suddenly stopped. After a moment of silence, alarmed shouts arose: “Someone come! The prisoner has committed suicide!”

The shouts carried far. Soon, chaotic footsteps approached constantly. Jailers came, the head jailer came, even the chief of the Palace Surveillance Department responsible for the entire imperial prison came. Everyone looked through the bars at the large pool of blood on the ground, with Mingcheng lying quietly in the blood pool, the wound on her wrist dried, her face white with the gray pallor of death.

Everyone looked at each other, all puzzled why this former empress who had previously endured all humiliation and suffering in prison without choosing death had suddenly developed suicidal intentions.

It didn’t matter how prisoners suffered, but if someone not permitted to die by higher authorities actually died, everyone present would be guilty.

The Palace Surveillance Department bore full responsibility for prison affairs inside and out. The chief was an old eunuch who couldn’t stand the foul prison air. Covering his nose, he sternly ordered, “Quickly carry her out and find a physician for treatment!”

Everyone hastily unlocked the door and clumsily carried Mingcheng out, including the palace guard who had been on duty yesterday.

Mingcheng’s hand hung down, weakly swaying beside her. The guard helping carry her upper body suddenly felt his sleeve move. Without showing any reaction, he pulled his sleeve tighter and glanced at Mingcheng, just seeing her slightly open her eyes to show a pleading look before quickly closing them again to feign death.

A physician arrived to apply medicine and bandage Mingcheng, saying her body was weak and she had lost too much blood. She probably couldn’t remain in that dark, damp, filthy dungeon anymore and should be moved to a cleaner place, or she would die from infection. After consideration, the Palace Surveillance Department immediately decided to move Mingcheng to the upper level of the imperial prison, where sunlight could reach and the cells were cleaner.

That guard stood in place, watching the dying former empress being carried away. Through gaps in the crowd, that pale, bloodstained woman stared at him unblinkingly, light flickering in her eyes.

That kind of light was called the will to live.

…

That night, in the house draped with black gauze, the tall man unfolded the blood-stained cloth strip, looked at it for a long while, then smiled: “Indeed, this is it.”

The guard kept his head down silently.

“This is her only remaining bargaining chip.” The man flicked the cloth strip, smiling, “Half the map to the founding empress’s underground palace. Her meaning is that if one wants to know the other half, save her.”

“Master, strictly speaking, she failed to complete your requirement and didn’t truly walk out of the imperial prison…”

“Mm, not clever enough method,” the man smiled faintly, “But in her actions, I saw her ruthlessness. Someone ruthless to herself will certainly be ruthless to others.” He turned toward the palace direction, saying lightly, “Then give her a chance.”

…

Three days later, the deposed emperor Zou Zheng, imprisoned in the dungeon, suddenly claimed to have important secrets to report to the Palace Surveillance Department. The department immediately dispatched a squad of guards to interrogate Zou Zheng and bring him for questioning.

Taking Zou Zheng from the imperial prison required passing Mingcheng’s current cell. Mingcheng lay motionless in her cell, appearing half-dead. Despite the commotion over there, she didn’t even lift her eyes.

Zou Zheng was flanked by guards, heavily shackled, but his expression showed hidden excitement.

During last night’s meal delivery, the palace guard had hidden a small tube in his hard bread and told him to crush the tube when walking past the fourth door from the end near the cell entrance, then wait for rescue.

He was amazed that someone would still rescue him at this time. When he asked who, the other party said his face was useful, so they would save him. Zou Zheng had gained his usurping opportunity because of this face and naturally believed this completely.

Even being used as a chess piece after rescue was better than suffering to death here.

The two teams walked unhurriedly through the deep prison corridor, boots clicking. The cells on both sides were hidden in shadows, making it unclear if anyone was inside.

Zou Zheng kept his head down, counting silently.

Fourth from the end, third, second… fourth!

Right here!

“Pop!” The tube was crushed.

Thick smoke spurted out. Though just a small tube, in an instant the smoke had enveloped both teams.

Both teams collapsed soundlessly, including Zou Zheng.

As he fell, Zou Zheng quickly swallowed a pill that had been hidden in another bread—the antidote.

He lay on the ground, eyes darting around rapidly, surveying the area while waiting for someone to rescue him.

But there were no footsteps.

Then, one person slowly stood up from among the two teams of guards. That person’s face looked somewhat familiar—it was the very person who had delivered medicine to him yesterday.

Zou Zheng was overjoyed and was about to get up to follow him when suddenly that person gave him a mysterious smile, asking, “You took the medicine?”

Zou Zheng nodded, excitedly about to speak, when he suddenly discovered he couldn’t make a sound.

Not only could he not speak, but his entire body’s muscles and all joints seemed suddenly imprisoned and frozen, gradually stiffening and losing the ability to move.

Within his body, severe pain suddenly arose, like purgatory, cruelly roasting his internal organs.

His face suddenly changed.

That person looked at him kindly, as if comforting him: “Good that you took it. Now you can die peacefully.”

Zou Zheng’s eyes suddenly widened—he’d been deceived!

But the other person ignored him, turning to calmly draw out keys and open the adjacent cell door.

Mingcheng got up from the straw pile. The guard stripped outer clothing from a nearby guard and handed it to her. Mingcheng took it, putting it on while coldly nodding to Zou Zheng lying on the ground, her expression as if thanking him for being willing to die in her place.

Zou Zheng made “ah, ah” sounds in his throat, using all his strength to barely move his fingers and grab Mingcheng’s trouser leg.

He desperately looked up, his eyes full of pleading, black blood slowly flowing from the corner of his mouth.

Mingcheng read his lips struggling to move—he was saying: “Husband and wife for one day, kindness for a hundred days…”

Husband and wife for one day, kindness for a hundred days.

Mingcheng smiled mockingly.

Originally a marriage of convenience—what love or kindness was there? In such fallen circumstances, only seeking to struggle out, who could care for whom!

She had nearly paid with her life for this chance at freedom—why should she give it to this fool?

She lightly kicked with her toe.

Zou Zheng’s hand was powerlessly kicked away, just like the previous day when her hand had been contemptuously kicked away by the jailer.

Mingcheng’s toe also ground against his fingers, listening to the cracking sound of breaking joints as she laughed coldly.

The guard glared at her, and she quickly lowered her head, helping the guard strip Zou Zheng’s clothes and throw them into her cell. They dressed the guard whose clothes she had taken in Zou Zheng’s garments, fed him a pill, and positioned him among the team.

During the busy work, her hand wound reopened, but she made no sound.

Then the two helped all the people stand up against the wall, also leaning against the wall themselves.

After another quarter-hour, the smoke dispersed and everyone slowly opened their eyes.

The moment they opened their eyes, everyone felt somewhat dazed. Looking at each other, they all felt confused and hazy, as if something had happened but couldn’t remember what. Why they had stopped here was also inexplicable.

After thinking for a long time without answers, the leader feared complications and immediately ordered rapid departure from the prison. The guard disguised as Zou Zheng also followed with his head down, gaze vacant and expression numb.

Mingcheng kept her head down throughout, not daring to let people see her face, secretly terrified.

The other party’s drugs seemed increasingly powerful. The earlier knockout drug had no side effects and even made people forget they had briefly lost consciousness, allowing their awareness to seamlessly continue.

Beyond fear, she also felt some excitement—cooperating with such a person, how could they lack opportunities for revenge?

“Zou Zheng” was delivered to the Palace Surveillance Department. The guards completed their mission and returned to duty. On the way back to the guard quarters, two people went missing.

An hour later, in a sealed carriage, Mingcheng lifted the curtain to look back quietly.

Behind her lay flying eaves and brackets, deep red palace gates—long separated from all that had once belonged to her, then been taken and taken again by others.

Those magnificent views, the taste of freedom. So fresh, like the hunting wind now passing her nose.

Her eyes grew brighter and more brilliant, blazing with light.

I’m out.

Today’s territory will be tomorrow’s deathbed for you.

Wait for me.

Jing. Heng. Bo.