“No,” he said.

His voice was cold and clear, his eyes like night.

She smiled softly. “Then let them come in.”

“Why?”

“Everyone values their life,” she said. “Down at the city walls, with crowds gathered, mutually encouraging each other, it’s easy to make people’s blood boil and disregard everything. But alone, they might not have the courage to confront face to face.”

Gong Yin looked at her with appreciation.

Her usual willful and reckless behavior, shouting and making scenes, had indeed always been just her protective coloring.

In this situation, she finally showed her true character—not destroyed by anger, not panicked by disadvantage, remaining calm and composed, seeing through the situation and human nature at a glance.

She was truly the one among all of them with the greatest wisdom, broadest heart, and vastest world.

Given time, she would be the most powerful queen.

Given time…

A coldness filled his heart, like this night’s early snow being stuffed inside.

“What you say makes sense, but it won’t work,” he said. “Letting these ringleaders in won’t allow us to do anything to them. In the end, you’ll more likely be pressured by them.”

“Then perform for them,” her lips curved upward. “Don’t they want to kill me? Then kill me for them to see.”

His fingers trembled slightly as he turned sharply.

…

“State Preceptor!” Seeing the two on the wall motionless for so long, those below grew increasingly agitated.

“State Preceptor!” Fei Luo shouted loudly. “What are you reluctant to part with! Do you know that if you don’t abandon her today, you will surely be abandoned by the six kingdoms!”

“Abandoned by the eight divisions!” The Fushui Division military and civilians roared.

“Abandoned by Dige’s noble families!” Xuanyuan Jing’s voice rang like iron.

“Abandoned by all civil officials and scholars under heaven!” Zhao Shizhi screeched.

“Abandoned by Dahuang’s court ministers!” The Minister of Rites trembled with tears streaming down his face.

“Abandoned by the Kang Long Army!” Cheng Gumo drew his sword toward the sky.

Before his horse, six soldiers suddenly stepped forward.

“Today the Grand Commander is forced to pressure the State Preceptor at the palace. The Commander is guilty, and we are willing to substitute our lives!” The six shouted in unison. “We only ask the State Preceptor to forgive the Grand Commander’s crime, forgive Kang Long’s crime, heed today’s overwhelming voices in the imperial square, execute the demon queen who brings chaos to court order, and return clear skies to Dahuang’s court!”

As their voices fell, blades rose. Blade light descended together with snow light, piercing straight into their chests!

“Stop!” Gong Yin atop the high wall roared angrily, flicking his sleeve as six points of silver light flashed downward.

Too far away after all—blood light burst forth before the silver light could arrive, splattering the uniformly white ground with crimson.

The muffled sound of six corpses falling heavily seemed to strike everyone’s hearts.

Death-sworn remonstrance, blood spilled at the palace city!

Above and below the city walls fell into deathly silence.

“Demon woman!” Xuanyuan Jing roared angrily. “My Dahuang soldiers could not die on the battlefield, yet because of you they spill blood at the imperial city. Do you still have the face to stand there seeking protection? If you had even a shred of dignity and conscience, you should throw yourself from the palace walls right now!”

Jing Hengbo slowly moved her gaze away from the six corpses on the ground and fixed it on Xuanyuan Jing.

Xuanyuan Jing felt his breath catch under her stare and instinctively looked away, then realizing this was wrong, quickly turned back to glare at her angrily.

The city below gradually quieted, watching the Queen on the wall.

The Queen who had seemed vivacious and willful in their memories now possessed an unusual calm. She didn’t rage and weep as everyone had imagined. Instead, she stood majestic and imposing, her bearing and spirit remarkably similar to Gong Yin beside her, who had held great power for years.

The two stood side by side like a pair of earthly rulers overlooking the changing winds and clouds.

This performance only strengthened everyone present’s determination to eliminate her.

Though isolated in court, among the common people she enjoyed excellent reputation and supreme devotion. Folk songs about her had already emerged, every verse praising and admiring her. These songs spread far to the six kingdoms and eight divisions, passed down by word of mouth.

Intelligent, brave, with popular support—given time, if she grew to maturity, if she gained supreme power, no one in this world could control her. Everyone here would die without burial ground!

In the silence, Jing Hengbo finally spoke. Gong Yin placed his hand at her back, using his inner power to help her voice carry far.

“Why should I jump down?” Her single sentence was like pouring oil on fire.

Before the city below could erupt in angry clamor, she continued coldly: “Regardless of everything, I am Dahuang’s future Queen who underwent the welcoming ceremony. I have my inherent nobility. I can die, but I cannot die shamefully before ten thousand people. If you want me dead—” she said sternly, “enter the city!”

“You’re using trickery!” Commander Cheng’s son immediately shouted. “You’re deceiving us to come in so you can kill us!”

“Is that so?” Jing Hengbo suddenly smiled.

This smile suddenly flashed in the flying snow—beautiful as peach blossoms yet cold as ice crystals, beautiful to desolation.

Everyone’s hearts shook, then suddenly discovered the Queen on the wall had disappeared!

The next instant, Jing Hengbo appeared before Commander Cheng’s son, a snow-bright dagger in her hand, coldly pressed against his chest.

Cries of alarm arose.

In a blink, the Queen had suddenly appeared before that man, the dagger’s coldness penetrating straight to his chest—the next moment it could reach his heart.

He wanted to retreat but dared not, shivering with cold, knowing he had no chance, desperately closing his eyes.

The expected severe pain didn’t come. Then he heard wind sounds and exclamations.

Opening his eyes again, emptiness faced him—only wind wrapped in snow.

Looking up, the Queen still stood at the battlements in her original position, as if she had never moved.

The moment of terror seemed like a dream, a nightmare.

But from the expressions of Fei Luo, Xuanyuan Jing, and others around him, he knew it wasn’t a dream—it was real.

He looked up in shock at the Queen whose sleeves fluttered in the wind and snow atop the city.

“See,” Jing Hengbo’s smile was like a beautiful ghost, “I don’t need to deceive you—I can still kill you.”

Those below the city were speechless.

This was fact.

In that instant, no one could react in time. If the Queen had pushed her dagger forward slightly, Commander Cheng’s son would have died ten times over.

Most people were more shocked—what if the Queen’s target had been themselves? Could they have dodged?

The answer was no.

“What skill is it to only dare hide behind others and fan the flames?” Jing Hengbo’s smile was mocking. “Since you so want me dead, then come in. According to custom, even if a queen is sentenced to death, it can only be by poisoned wine or self-hanging. If you want to watch me die, come in and watch.”

“Who knows if you’ll actually die!”

“She will.”

The answer came from Gong Yin, who raised his hand and placed his fingers coldly at Jing Hengbo’s neck.

Jing Hengbo looked up at him in shock.

But he didn’t look at Jing Hengbo. With a gesture, a guard came up and bound Jing Hengbo.

“Since this is the collective will, I will not ignore it.” Gong Yin said flatly to those below. “You want the Queen sentenced to death. I agree.”

Below the city fell silent, looking at Gong Yin’s concession with some disbelief.

“But I also agree with the Queen’s words. The imperial family has its dignity. Having her fall from the imperial city before everyone’s eyes would dishonor royal nobility.” Gong Yin said coldly. “Since you speak constantly of following proper protocol, then follow protocol. Give her a complete corpse and bury her with queen’s rites.”

“She could commit suicide at the palace city…” Fei Luo couldn’t help speaking.

“Will you come up to examine the corpse?” Gong Yin’s eyes flicked over, and Fei Luo’s face turned iron-gray.

Let her alone go up to the imperial city to examine a corpse? Could she return alive?

“Then you?” Gong Yin looked at Xuanyuan Jing.

Xuanyuan Jing pretended not to hear.

“You?” Gong Yin asked Zhao Shizhi.

Zhao Shizhi crawled in the mud, indicating he was paralyzed and couldn’t climb the city.

“You dare not do this, you won’t do that—who do you think you are? Do you really think that with one call to the palace city, I, Gong Yin, must comply with everything?” Gong Yin’s tone grew increasingly cold. “Don’t push your luck! Don’t forget that beside the imperial city, Yuzhao Dragon Cavalry stand ready for battle!”

Everyone in the square fell silent, bowing their heads.

“Either get lost and go back, or all come in together. You speak constantly of serving Dahuang and the court, but when the moment comes, you don’t even dare enter the palace together. Whether this is public spirit or private desire, you know clearly!”

“If we enter the palace, we enter the palace!” Cheng Gumo said loudly. “To personally witness the demon woman’s execution—that’s my lifelong wish!”

“If we enter the palace, we enter the palace!” Xuanyuan Jing consulted with the others. “We all have status and reputation, and so many people are watching. Gong Yin absolutely cannot close the gates and kill us all, or he couldn’t explain to the world either!”

Everyone nodded.

Fearing the crowd might withdraw and leave them without support, Xuanyuan Jing turned to address everyone in the square: “Please wait here, everyone. Success or failure depends on this single move—please don’t leave. We will certainly not disappoint your expectations and bring news of the demon woman’s suicide!”

“Gentlemen, please go ahead with confidence!” The crowd responded with a roar.

“If we’re in any danger, we’ll release signal fireworks. Then Kang Long Army will certainly rebel! We trust the State Preceptor, and ask the State Preceptor to respect himself!” Cheng Gumo’s voice rang out clearly.

“What I promise, I never go back on!”

Atop the city wall, Gong Yin waved his hand. Yuzhao Dragon Cavalry quietly disappeared into the darkness, heading to Kang Long main camp outside the city to handle the situation.

Everyone in the square stood silently in wind and snow, watching the deep red palace gates rumble open.

Xuanyuan Jing, Fei Luo, Fushui Division representatives, Zhao Shizhi, Cheng Gumo, the Minister of Rites and Ministry of Rites officials above third rank, and all civil and military ministers present filed in. Behind them, the palace gates slowly closed, shutting in this night’s blood and wind and snow.

This night’s wind and snow and blood continued to fly.

…

Jing Hengbo was led down from the city wall by two unfamiliar guards, swords positioned left and right at her neck.

Gong Yin descended first, standing alone before the palace pathway, facing the stream of ministers entering the palace.

Wind and snow grew fiercer. Everyone wore thick robes, but he alone was lightly dressed, standing straight, his snow-white sleeves floating in the wind like a white phantom, making everyone feel slightly cold in their hearts.

Everyone suddenly remembered that Gong Yin’s inner power belonged to the ice and snow school, its might even greater in cold weather.

At the end of the night, he was crystalline and snow-clear like a glass person, even his lips bloodless.

Everyone stopped several zhang away from him. The long palace pathway gradually became covered with snow.

Jing Hengbo walked to the middle, looked up, and laughed coldly.

“Gong Yin,” she didn’t look at Gong Yin, only at the sky, “you’re ruthless enough.”

Gong Yin remained silent. Snowflakes flew past his face—impossible to distinguish which was whiter, his skin or the snow. After a long while he said: “Forced by circumstances. Your Majesty, please forgive me.”

“Don’t call me Your Majesty,” Jing Hengbo coldly cut off his words. “Just a moment ago, you still called me Hengbo.”

Wind howled and lifted Gong Yin’s hair at his temples. His black hair covered equally black eyes, making his inner expression unreadable. “Whether Your Majesty or Hengbo, both are past.”

“Yes,” Jing Hengbo laughed coldly again, still looking up at the sky, her voice desolate. “The love and hate of those in power are always brief. Territory is always more important than women.”

Gong Yin no longer replied, lowering his eyes and stepping back slightly.

The ministers listened to their brief exchange. Gong Yin remained as brief and sharp as always. But Jing Hengbo differed from her usual spirited and carefree manner—every word simple, every word full of killing intent and hatred.

Here was a man and woman who, before the great cause of territory, helplessly walked toward opposite poles.

“Right here then.” Xuanyuan Jing said impatiently.

He eagerly anticipated that the Queen’s end would be pushed forward by his hand, which would gain more favor and support for the old aristocratic families in future political struggles.

But Fei Luo stared intently at Gong Yin—she didn’t believe Gong Yin had simply agreed to execute the Queen.

Though in this situation, he indeed had no choice but to agree or lose the entire court’s loyalty, especially Kang Long’s. But as long as the opponent was Gong Yin, she felt uneasy.

“This humble minister wishes to offer the longevity drug.” She stepped forward, presenting a pill.

The pill was deep black, flowing with eerie light.

The so-called longevity drug was poison—death was another form of longevity. This was a euphemistic way of speaking about executing those in high positions.

The ministers stepped forward and bowed in unison.

“Please take this longevity drug.”

Gong Yin raised his hand, paused, then silently dismissed the attending physician who had come to deliver the medicine.

“Agreed,” he said.

Everyone’s faces lit up with joy.

They feared trickery, feared substituting harmless medicine to fake death. Since he was willing to use the medicine they presented, they had no more worries.

It seemed Gong Yin had long prepared for this day and had already made his decision.

He surely couldn’t oppose the entire court, Kang Long Army, the entire noble class, and all six kingdoms and eight divisions alone. Even with forceful suppression, would he live as a lonely hermit from now on?

The black pill was presented before Jing Hengbo. She furrowed her brows, showing three parts killing intent.

“I demand the treatment due a queen.”

“Giving you a whole corpse is queen’s treatment,” Fei Luo’s gaze was sharp.

“I don’t want to die on this cold palace pathway. I like comfort—even in death, I want to die comfortably.” Jing Hengbo shook her head.

“At death’s door, still so particular,” Fei Luo sneered.

But the Minister of Rites said: “The Queen’s request is reasonable. She should have a dignified death.”

“Where do you want to be?” Xuanyuan Jing asked patiently.

Everyone was reluctant to go to her current bedchamber, which was too close to Gong Yin’s Tranquil Court. In everyone’s minds, Tranquil Court was the most dangerous place in Yuzhao Palace—countless guards, numerous hidden mechanisms. The Queen’s chambers were too close to there. Once they went there, who knew what might happen.

“I want to end it there,” Jing Hengbo turned her head, looking south. “I want to leave in my true bedchamber.”

Everyone looked up to see a deep red glazed eave corner frosted in the wind and snow. That was the original Queen’s bedchamber.

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Cheng Gumo sneered: “Fine. You never truly ascended the throne even unto death. Now giving you suicide in the Queen’s chambers can be considered fulfilling your lifelong dream.”

“Yes,” Jing Hengbo resumed her lazy attitude. “Dying in my own palace with the Grand Commander at my funeral. Not bad. Just don’t know who will attend your funeral after the Grand Commander dies.”

“Lowly slave!” Stung where it hurt, Cheng Gumo’s face turned iron-gray. “You still dare mention this! If you hadn’t brutally murdered my son, why would you face death and loss of position today?”

“I’m forced to face death and loss of position not because I killed your villainous son, not because I dug up their ancestral graves, not because I offended any of you,” Jing Hengbo shook her head. “Only because I valued common people more than you.” She curved her lips in complete mockery. “Today below Yuzhao Palace, if common people had been standing there, you would be the ones dying.”

“Perhaps,” Fei Luo smiled sweetly. “Too bad ordinary people aren’t specially permitted to enter within three li of the palace city at night. The common people you depend on cannot help you at critical moments. So let me teach you something—in your next reincarnation, be sure to choose the right people to curry favor with.”

“Let me teach you something,” Jing Hengbo glanced at her sideways. “Without snow-white teeth, don’t laugh broadly; without an upright chest, don’t put hands on hips; without straight shoulders, don’t tilt your head. Do you know that every time I see you giggle, thrust out your chest, and tilt your head to act cute, I want to die early and reincarnate?”

“Jing Hengbo!” Fei Luo’s smile was half-spread, not knowing whether to finish or stop, her hand about to reach her waist, not knowing whether to place it or not, her head tilted halfway and frozen, killing intent flashing in her eyes. “Speak! Hurry up and say more! The nine netherworld hells have no place for your glib tongue!”

Jing Hengbo laughed heartily and turned to leave.

A large contingent of guards followed behind her, and all the ministers followed closely, not leaving her side for a moment, fearing she might suddenly run away again.

Gong Yin never moved, standing at the back of the group, watching chaotic footsteps crush the frost and snow on the ground, watching torches moving through wind and snow, winding all the way toward the Queen’s chambers.

Snowflakes scattered like plum blossoms, falling at his lips.

They did not melt.

…

Several figures hurried forward through hidden palace pathways.

“Hurry, hurry.” Zirui, wrapped in a hood, constantly urged Cui Jie and Yong Xue behind her who carried Feifei and Er Gouzi. “This way we can reach the Queen’s chambers first.”

The three women emerged from the concealed path. Before entering the palace gates, they saw the main group had already appeared at the other end of the palace pathway.

The three flashed inside.

“I’m the Queen’s personal female official—I must be at her side later. The rest is up to you,” Zirui said.

“Cui Jie, come with me.” Yong Xue went to pull Cui Jie.

“Wait, did any of you see Jing Jun earlier?” Cui Jie suddenly asked.

The other two were stunned, then Zirui said uncertainly: “She should be sleeping in her room, right? Wasn’t she said to be very ill?”

“She sleeps in her room every day, but are you really certain that when we left just now, she was sleeping in her room?”

All three had ugly expressions. When they received the thunderbolt news earlier, they hadn’t had time to think and rushed over immediately. No one had thought to check whether a long-term invalid was actually in her room.

It was too late to go back and check now—matters here were more important.

“The Queen’s chambers only have one main entrance. She couldn’t have sneaked in. Don’t worry.” Zirui comforted the other two. “We just need to be careful.”

“Mm.”

“I’ll wait in the front hall. Yong Xue, you and Cui Jie go to the Queen’s bedchamber.”

The three women quickly divided tasks. Yong Xue pulled Cui Jie straight to the bedchamber.

“There’s a mechanism here,” she said directly. “I don’t know if the Queen will need this mechanism today, but we should guard it here. Also, I need to tell you—this mechanism, Jing Jun seems to…”

Outside, there was suddenly a clattering sound, as if a roof tile had been thrown against the wall. Yong Xue was startled into silence.

“I’ll go look,” Cui Jie stood up.

“Let me go instead. I’m small and inconspicuous. They’re about to arrive—don’t let them see us.” Yong Xue held her back and hurried out.

Cui Jie remained alone with Er Gouzi in the resplendent Queen’s bedchamber.

…

The great doors of the Queen’s chambers slowly opened.

Before stepping onto the stairs, Jing Hengbo turned back to look. Through the mass of dark heads, she couldn’t see Gong Yin’s figure.

“Stop looking,” Zhao Shizhi’s lips curved in a knowing smile. “Having the State Preceptor bid farewell to his beloved woman would be truly cruel. I think he won’t come.”

“Except for the guards watching the Queen, all other guards please don’t enter.” Fei Luo demanded the guards withdraw, fearing that once the palace doors closed, these people would be slaughtered by Gong Yin’s subordinates.

The guards seemed to have received Gong Yin’s instructions and indeed remained outside the palace gates, keeping them wide open.

Jing Hengbo turned and walked through the palace gates. The first thing she saw was Zirui standing beside the gates, bowing to her.

“First-rank female official Xia Zirui greets Your Majesty the Queen.”

Xia Zirui seemed not to notice the ministers’ mocking smiles, remaining composed and respectful as always, her bent skirts motionless—perfect court etiquette.

Jing Hengbo gazed at her, feeling a mixture of emotions in that instant.

True feelings are revealed in times of crisis.

All her giving had only ever been repaid among humble people.

“Why doesn’t such a loyal female official loyally accompany the Queen in achieving longevity?” someone said sarcastically.

“Zirui has exactly this intention,” Xia Zirui smoothed her skirts and answered calmly.

A moment of silence.

The indifferent crowd turned to look seriously at this first-rank female official who could have had a brilliant future, then at Jing Hengbo with her slight smile and bright eyes.

The ministers’ eyes held incomprehensible expressions, unable to understand how a prospective queen could, in just a few months, win such devoted loyalty from these proud female officials.

This woman had an indescribable charm that made people attach themselves, trust her, and willingly give their hearts in return. If she were allowed to grow, perhaps she would become a female hero who could call out and have the world respond.

Fortunately, her passionate heart was misplaced, wasted entirely on these useless lowly people.

Everyone sneered coldly, finding it both ironic and fortunate.

Yet watching the two women gaze at each other in the snow, their faces calm and beautiful, their eyes seemingly holding gentle light, they suddenly felt their own baseness and couldn’t help feeling angry. They strode forward with heavy, mixed footsteps, pushing Zirui aside and shoving Jing Hengbo toward the main hall.

Before being pushed away, Jing Hengbo only had time to make a gesture to Zirui.

…

Cui Jie waited for a while and faintly heard what seemed like Yong Xue crying “Oh!” outside. Her heart jumped as she stood and looked out.

She walked to the window but could see nothing through the vast wind and snow.

Suddenly she heard Er Gouzi cry out strangely behind her: “Little Jun.”

Cui Jie froze, then remembering something, immediately turned around.

But it was too late.

Something cold and hard pressed against her back, its chill penetrating to her bones. She knew it was a sharp dagger.

A familiar voice behind her shoulder laughed softly: “Sister Cui, I’ve been waiting for you for a long time.”

…

Jing Hengbo entered the main hall of the Queen’s chambers.

Before she went in, Cheng Gumo had already led his men to quickly inspect the great hall, ensuring there were no problems before allowing her to enter.

She walked slowly on the deep red, rich carpet with ten thousand character flowers, crossing the vermillion steps and jade stairs, above which was the Queen’s throne inlaid with gold and jade and covered with embroidered cushions.

When crossing the threshold, she slightly lifted her skirts.

No one saw a purple shadow quietly slip under her skirts behind the threshold.

The bright yellow skirts trailed long behind her as she wound her way up the jade steps. She sat on the throne, arranged her skirts, and with bound hands supporting her chin, lazily watched the hall entrance.

The ministers filed in after her, each habitually taking their positions. If not for the serious, cold atmosphere surrounding her, the scene would somewhat resemble a queen holding court.

After standing in position, everyone suddenly discovered a problem.

Who would present the poison?

Using Gong Yin’s guards—unreliable. Using the Queen’s female officials—unreliable. Going themselves? The ministers looked at each other, suddenly remembering the Queen’s many supernatural abilities, remembering how she had ghostily appeared before Commander Cheng’s son at the palace walls, then ghostily disappeared.

With the Queen’s unpredictable, supernatural methods, she might not be able to resist so many people, but killing one or two who approached to force her was very possible.

Even now she remained unhurried, unworried, and unangry—her strange behavior made everyone more wary. They all felt that killing the Queen was certainly important, but with so many people present, someone else could do it; they needn’t play the hero themselves.

Looking at the Queen’s manner, she was unlikely to go die willingly.

Indeed, Jing Hengbo crooked her finger from her seat and said lazily: “Hanging is too ugly—I don’t want to die that way for you to see. Who has the guts to present the poison to me?”

Everyone looked at her, feeling slightly chilled. They all thought this woman, regardless of her inner plans, remained so composed and commanding even now—this was true dominance.

“Haha, Commander Cheng is a world-renowned hero, and eager to avenge his son’s death. This matter must be done by Commander Cheng!” Zhao Shizhi immediately recommended Cheng Gumo.

Cheng Gumo had a warrior’s temperament and couldn’t stand provocation, so he actually stepped forward.

Only one step.

The bronze crane before the throne suddenly toppled, crashing straight toward his face!

Cheng Gumo retreated in alarm as the bronze crane crashed to the ground with a clang, rolling far away.

Cheng Gumo dared not move again, looking up at Jing Hengbo in shock.

Jing Hengbo on the throne had already lost her smile, supporting her chin with her hand, leaning forward slightly, her eyes coldly fixed on him—no bright cheerfulness, only coldness and killing intent.

For a moment, she seemed divine.

“I still need to preserve this useful body to continue my family’s incense line,” Cheng Gumo immediately stepped back, frankly refusing. “Why doesn’t Master Zhao go instead?”

“I’m not able to walk properly. Otherwise, please trouble Brother Cheng?” Zhao Shizhi glanced at the bronze crane and nominated the person with the lowest rank in the hall.

“I… I…” Commander Cheng’s son had already been terrified by the Queen’s ghostly appearance earlier. Even though she was smiling now, he felt an eerie atmosphere and stammered while backing away.

As for Xuanyuan Jing and others, they had long since stood aside exchanging pleasantries as if it had nothing to do with them.

Jing Hengbo watched coldly from above at these high officials’ true faces—pushing and yielding. She had long seen through them all and wanted exactly this behavior!

Under her skirts.

Feifei was busily working, sprinkling her urine on a small incense burner lid, then holding up the lid to cover the incense burner.

The smoke from the incense burner, after passing through the moist lid and winding out, changed from its original pure white to a faint blue color.

A thread of blue smoke slowly and leisurely drifted out from under Jing Hengbo’s skirts.

Jing Hengbo watched the tightly closed hall doors, a cold smile flashing in her eyes.

Soon this smoke should make everyone drowsy, and she would lead them into her bedchamber.

The Queen’s bedchamber was a private place that the ministers wouldn’t casually enter when clear-headed, but in a confused state, they could.

She wanted them to experience the wonders of that special world beneath her bedchamber.

After they experienced it, perhaps their intention to kill her would change. She planned to learn from Gong Yin and make them sign agreements they had to obey.

Now, she just waited for the smoke to take effect.

Her gaze swept through the hall and suddenly felt something was wrong.

It seemed like someone was missing.

…

Half an hour earlier, Yong Xue had gone out to check the commotion outside.

The sound seemed to come from beyond the wall. She stepped on snow-covered stones, trying to climb up to see clearly.

Suddenly broken snow fell from the wall top above, and within the snow, a bright light pierced her vision!

Yong Xue looked up to dodge, but her foot suddenly slipped. She fell from the stone and crashed heavily into the snow.

Her lower back hit a rock painfully, bringing tears to her eyes. Through the blur, she saw a figure like light snow drifting down from the wall.

This posture… her heart jumped in alarm.

The person floated to her side, crouched down, seeming to check her injuries, yet also seeming to have drawn a sword, bright light flashing in their hand.

Before Yong Xue could see clearly, she reached for the person’s neck. They seemed startled, flashed backward, the silver light in their hand brightening to strike down, but suddenly stopped as if hearing something. Their body swept away like wind blowing snow over the high wall and disappeared.

Yong Xue lay in the snow, slowly widening her eyes.

…

With the cold, hard blade at her back, Cui Jie remained motionless.

“Jing Jun,” she said, her voice trembling at first but steadying after a few words. “You were indeed pretending to be ill.”

“Who said that? When did I ever pretend to be ill?” Jing Jun coughed twice behind her, even her cough light and pleased. “But to personally kill those who harmed me, even if my body is falling apart, I must crawl up, right?”

“Who harmed you?” Cui Jie frowned. “You can’t mean Da Bo?”

Jing Jun laughed coldly, her voice chillingly penetrating. “Why not? Have you forgotten how she treated me last time over a bowl of ginger soup?”

“That was because you had evil intentions first and brought humiliation on yourself.” Cui Jie’s voice was full of contempt. “Da Bo saved your life, yet you developed feelings for the State Preceptor. You tried to steal her man first. Her treating you that way—I’d say she was still being polite!”

“What ‘her man’!” Jing Jun’s voice suddenly became agitated. “Hers, hers—everything is hers! Let me tell you, nothing is hers! Nothing!”

Cui Jie laughed coldly, too lazy to even refute.

Both fell silent, watching snow fall rustling in the courtyard, passing through the deep red window lattice as one or two snowflakes struck their faces with bone-chilling cold.

“You’re going to kill me, right?” After a long while, Cui Jie took a breath and closed her eyes. “Then kill me. I only regret not strongly urging Da Bo to send you away immediately.”

“She couldn’t send me away. This was originally my place,” Jing Jun whispered coldly in her ear. “I didn’t remember originally, but recently, I’ve remembered everything… Otherwise, why do you think I could come out from inside here…”

“What do you mean?”

“You don’t deserve to know what I mean. You’re definitely going to die. I’m already thoroughly sick of your appearance in front of Da Bo—always acting so loyal, always looking so wary of me. I’ve known you so long, but I’ve never seen you care so much about me. You’re just a money-loving whore who follows Da Bo so devotedly because of her high position. Must you pretend to be the type who’d go through fire and water for a friend? Don’t you find yourself disgusting?”

“Disgusting people find everything disgusting. I love money and have taken a lot from Da Bo, but I’ve repaid her too. It’s better than some people who receive care for a long time but still think of harming others. I’m just afraid that doing too many evil deeds—with gods watching three feet above—won’t make dying much later than me.”

“I won’t live much longer anyway…” Jing Jun laughed, her rapid coughing causing breathing fluctuations that disturbed Cui Jie’s hair. “I didn’t know what I should do before, but now I understand. Before dying, I want to send all those who try to replace me to hell first!”

“With your sieve-like body, be careful you don’t drag others down but fall into hell yourself first.”

“Hehe…” Jing Jun didn’t seem angry, her laughter light and floating. “You’ve always been sharp-tongued. I won’t argue with you. Arguing with the dead is wasteful.”

Cui Jie bit her teeth and closed her eyes, waiting for that cold blade to pierce down.

She wouldn’t beg and didn’t want to beg. For someone like Jing Jun who was self-centered and had harbored resentment alone for so long, begging would only add another layer of humiliation before death.

The knife pressed in slightly, piercing through clothes, then stopped.

She opened her eyes.

“Do you know why I’m telling you so much?” Jing Jun’s voice whispered again by her ear. “Because I have a very clever plan that I’m about to implement. Such a brilliant thing—if only I knew about it, it would be like wearing fine clothes at night. I want you to hear it too. I want you to die feeling especially anxious and regretful after hearing it.”

Cui Jie remained silent, staring at the front hall. The front hall was quiet, snow falling rustling, and Yong Xue hadn’t returned.

“Soon someone will come to drag me to present the poison pill,” Jing Jun said with a smile. “I’ll cough and gasp, cry and crawl step by step to her knees. I’ll embrace her knees, crying that I don’t want her to take the medicine, expressing that I’m willing to die in her place. I’ll also repent for my past wrongs, make deathbed apologies and farewells with her. I’ll express that I’m willing to trade my life for hers, only asking that she live well… What do you think she’ll do?”

Cui Jie felt all the blood in her body seem to freeze in that moment.

“You… are so poisonous.” Her voice came from between her teeth, grinding sharply on each tooth tip.

If this really happened, what would Da Bo think? Da Bo already felt guilty about Jing Jun because of the last incident. How could she watch Jing Jun die for her face to face?

Once Da Bo tried to save Jing Jun, what variables would arise?

Even if Da Bo really hardened her heart and let her die, Jing Jun certainly wouldn’t die. What would happen then? If Da Bo mistakenly thought Jing Jun died because of her, this mental obstacle would follow her for life. How could she ever be Jing Hengbo again?

Advancing or retreating, both were losing and death situations.

“I’ve prepared good things for her,” Jing Jun held something before her with one hand. “Look, there’s medicine here—antidote someone sent me in advance. If Jing Hengbo is really so heartless and can watch me take poison before her eyes, that’s fine too. I’ll take the antidote first. This medicine is a precious imperial court treasure that can neutralize most poisons in this world… Hehe, what do you think? No matter how uneasy she is about me, how much she suspects me, seeing me resolutely take poison for her and demonstrate my loyalty with death, won’t she be moved and trust me? Hehe, and then…”

She looked at Cui Jie’s profile with cruel amusement, enjoying this feeling of looking down from above like a beast, confident of victory and calmly toying with prey destined to die under its claws.

This made her forget her current situation and truly recall the past.

Having been weak for so long, crawling and surviving in darkness, she had forgotten her past brilliance under the sun, forgotten the glory of once being in a superior position.

Past memories were actually already blurred, only knowing she instinctively pursued things that once belonged to her, until one day being awakened to shockingly realize how much she had lost. The past was as blurred as the current window gauze, covered with a layer of cool, thin snow, cold to the touch.

“I think…” Cui Jie’s voice was suddenly also very blurred. “I will know…”

She suddenly crashed backward violently!

“Chi.” The sound of a dagger piercing her lower back!

Jing Jun hadn’t expected her to crash into the blade herself. In great shock, her hand softened and her body leaned back. Cui Jie pressed down with the momentum, crashing heavily and pinning her to the ground with a bang. Turning back, she delivered an elbow strike to Jing Jun’s ribs with a muffled sound. Jing Jun didn’t even groan—her eyes rolled back and she lost consciousness.

Cui Jie collapsed on top of her, breathing rapidly as blood slowly spread behind her, staining Jing Jun’s chest clothes red.

After a long while she calmed slightly and struggled to crawl up slowly. She first collected the antidote that had fallen to the ground, then gritted her teeth and reached back to her waist to pull out the knife, but suddenly stopped.

Suddenly there were footsteps outside.

The steps were slightly urgent, breaking the snowy silence of the rear hall.

Cui Jie stopped her hand and knelt by the window, alertly looking outside. She saw Fei Luo wearing a cloak, hurrying over.

“Soon someone will come to drag me to present the poison pill…”

Jing Jun’s words suddenly echoed in her mind. Cui Jie gritted her teeth and stood up, grabbing a thick fur cloak from a nearby clothing rack and wrapping her entire body in it.

The cloak had a wide hood that covered most of her face.

When she stood up, she swayed, her face pale as paper, her black hair damp with sweat in the winter night, making her large, lifeless eyes—at first glance, she really did somewhat resemble Jing Jun.

Fei Luo had already entered the corridor.

Cui Jie had no time to deal with Jing Jun further. Afraid she lacked strength to kill and that Jing Jun’s struggles would be heard by Fei Luo, she could only pull over a carpet to cover Jing Jun’s body and hurriedly go out to meet her.

She kept her head down, covering her face with her hand, walking toward Fei Luo with a cough and sway at every step.

This weak posture was exactly like Jing Jun. Though Fei Luo had naturally seen Jing Jun before, it was always from a distance. The Xiang Kingdom’s female minister was arrogant and naturally wouldn’t deign to pay much attention to someone of Jing Jun’s status.

Now she also just glanced indifferently and said: “You know what you need to do?”

Cui Jie nodded and coughed.

Fei Luo raised her chin and handed her a tray with a black pill on it.

“You must perform well,” she said. “As long as you do well, you’ll get everything you want.”

Cui Jie nodded again, breathing weakly.

Fei Luo turned her eyes away somewhat disgustedly. She wasn’t clear about this woman’s situation. Someone else had made the overall plan, someone else had contacted and arranged what Jing Jun should do. She was only responsible for escorting Jing Jun to deliver the poison to Jing Hengbo.

Having this woman deliver the medicine was part of a chain plot—both avoiding their own people falling into Jing Hengbo’s traps and using Jing Jun to set a trap for Jing Hengbo.

For this Queen who seemed to have no martial arts but often achieved unexpected victories, no one dared underestimate her.

As for what agreement the contact person had reached with Jing Jun, she didn’t know and didn’t care. She just needed to do her part well.

A sword light like cold moonlight gently rested on Cui Jie’s neck.

Fei Luo stood beside Cui Jie, saying coldly: “Let’s go. Remember to do what you need to do well.”