Huang Zixia stood silently behind Li Shubai, watching Empress Wang sitting there.

In twelve years, her life had changed dramatically. She had risen like smoke to the heavens, from a pipa player to Empress, each step difficult in its way. But borrowed things must eventually be returned, and after everything was overturned in a single night, who knew what fate awaited her?

Wang Lin straightened up, tears streaming down his face as he addressed the Emperor: “I… truly never imagined at the time… that this day would come! Since Your Majesty ascended the throne, I haven’t been able to sleep peacefully, and when she was appointed Empress, I could neither eat nor rest, suffering torment day and night for years, always fearing exposure… I think Her Majesty’s days… were probably no better than mine. Your Majesty, I know I deserve death ten thousand times over, but please consider that the Empress was also coerced by me, and later found herself trapped in a situation beyond her control…”

“Enough.” The Emperor slightly raised his right hand, stopping him from continuing. “If you were truly so uneasy, how could you, twelve years later, still orchestrate the same kind of substitution scheme? Did you think I could be so easily deceived?”

Wang Lin immediately trembled in terror, his body drenched in cold sweat, shaking like a sieve, not daring to speak further.

The Empress, who had been coldly observing from the side, finally spoke, her voice hoarse and slow, saying softly: “In this life, meeting Your Majesty was my greatest fortune. Though these twelve years I’ve worried day and night, fearing Your Majesty would reject me upon learning the truth, even while living this borrowed life, how could I not feel fortunate?”

At this point, her voice trembled with emotion, and she looked up at the Emperor through her tears, which rolled down her jade-like cheeks like crystal pearls: “Your Majesty… for twelve years, though I lived in the lonely depths of the palace, surrounded by wolves, Your Majesty treated me better than common couples treat each other. I was so fortunate in life that I wanted to arrange an equally good match for my daughter outside the palace… I thought that this way, what I owed her in this life would be settled. I would surely forget all past matters after Xuese’s marriage and serve Your Majesty well, willing to shatter my body or walk through fire and water…”

Huang Zixia and Li Shubai exchanged glances, both seeing the thoughts revealed in each other’s eyes. They knew that from the moment she summoned her daughter back, this was when she reconnected with her previous life, unable to sever ties.

However, they were just outsiders.

They could remain clear-headed and unmoved, but the person who had shared his carriage and bed with Empress Wang for twelve years could not help but be persuaded by her. Because she knew his weaknesses clearly and knew how to bind him to her.

In just an instant, that woman who had been unable to control herself after killing her daughter had vanished. Now in Yanji Hall stood once again the Empress Wang known for her “martial spirit”—beautiful, cruel, every movement and smile precisely calculated, never wasted, never missing its mark.

The Emperor, looking at the tear-streaked, red-eyed Empress Wang before him, suddenly felt a surge of helpless melancholy in his heart.

For years, they had shared glory and shame, facing the world’s people together. He still remembered her smile, half-hidden behind her pipa when they first met, her radiant smile on his coronation day, and her tired smile when he held their newborn son—

She seemed to have become part of his life; without her, his life would seem incomplete.

“Shao…”

The Emperor finally stood up and walked toward her, step by step, slowly and heavily, saying: “You lost your composure too much just now.”

Empress Wang gazed at the approaching Emperor, her face gradually showing an expression of bitter sorrow, but finally lowered her head and said: “Yes…”

“You are a concubine-born daughter of the Wang family’s main branch, by my side for twelve years, and Empress for many years, always dignified and composed. How could you today be so overwhelmed with grief at your clan sister’s spirit tablet that you became possessed by ghosts and spoke such nonsense?”

Empress Wang stood there stunned, and after a long while, large tears finally rolled down her face. At this moment, she was no longer that proud, world-stunning beauty. Whether genuine or false, she appeared weak and helpless, seemingly drained of all strength, able only to kneel and clutch the Emperor’s robe, covering her face, sobbing uncontrollably.

The Emperor grabbed her arm and forcefully pulled her up. She was slender and pale, her body constantly trembling, but finally, with his strength, she stood again before others. Standing beside the Emperor, even with tears still on her face, she still emanated that pride born of years at the pinnacle of society, unconsciously radiating outward.

Huang Zixia watched coldly, observing this woman who had precisely planned every movement and emotion, thinking involuntarily that perhaps when she had lost control earlier, she had seemed more like a real person—but that was only for a moment.

The Emperor stiffly held her hand, and though it wasn’t natural, he held it nonetheless.

His gaze swept across the faces of Wang Lin, Wang Yun, and Li Shubai, finally falling on Huang Zixia’s face as he slowly said: “If anyone mentions even a word of this matter hereafter…”

His voice paused for a long while before finally falling with the weight of a thousand jun: “It will be considered disregarding imperial dignity and seeking conflict with the court!”

Everyone in the hall remained silent, not daring to speak.

The Emperor raised his hand to the Empress, helping her tuck her disheveled hair behind her ear, then took her hand and said: “Go rest, I’ll have the Imperial Physician examine you. Today, you were driven mad by excessive grief, understand?”

“Yes… I understand,” she hesitated, answering softly.

“Let’s go.”

The Emperor and Empress left hand in hand as they had come, though the Empress’s steps were slightly unsteady, while the Emperor guided her step by step out of Yanji Hall.

Before leaving, the Emperor glanced back at Xianyun and Ranyun, signaling to Wang Yun.

Huang Zixia stood behind Li Shubai, feeling a faint sadness and inexplicable melancholy as this case, though its truth revealed, ended in silence.

Li Shubai looked back at her and walked out wordlessly.

Huang Zixia followed behind him, leaving Yanji Hall together.

As they passed Wang Yun, she heard his voice, barely audible, near her ear: “Why?”

Her heart suddenly jumped, and she turned to look at him.

Wang Yun, usually gentle and warm like a spring breeze, now stared at her with deeply profound eyes, unmoving.

His voice, low but clear, asked word by word: “What wrong has our Wang family done to you, why do you… again and again, push me like this?”

Huang Zixia felt her chest grow cold under his intense gaze.

But she could only bite her lip and say: “I don’t know what you mean. I only know that justice and righteousness exist in people’s hearts. Whether the dead are singing girls or beggars, whether the murderer is an emperor or minister, I only seek to speak the truth I’ve uncovered, to be at peace with my conscience.”

After speaking, she turned and fled through the door.

However, at the moment of escape, she suddenly realized what he meant by “again and again”—

Could he be counting the time she had refused to marry him, making him a laughingstock in the capital?

She felt a sudden shock, with a thin layer of cold sweat seeping from her back. But immediately, she rejected this thought—she had once caused Wang Yun such humiliation; if he had recognized her as Huang Zixia, he would surely have exposed her true identity long ago. How could he have tolerated her until now?

Even if he had truly recognized her, with Li Shubai present, he might not have dared to forcefully expose her.

Moreover, even if he had recognized her, what of it? She would soon leave the capital for Sichuan, and after uncovering the truth about her family, whether she could return was uncertain.

In any case, she would need to be more careful in the future—but now, in such emotional exhaustion, she had no energy to worry about this.

A clamor arose at the Wang family gate—it was Jin’nu’s body, according to the original plan, still being transported to the Wang family’s ancestral burial ground for a grand funeral.

She unconsciously stopped, standing under the tall cypress trees at the gate, staring at the black lacquered coffin for a long time.

Li Shubai turned back to look at her and asked: “What’s wrong?”

She remained silent for a long while before quietly saying: “I’m thinking about Jin’nu.”

When she was five years old, freezing and starving to death on the street, the wind lifted Mei Wanzhi’s carriage curtain, and she saw Jin’nu’s hands at first glance, so she took her home. She said, “Jin’nu, heaven gave you these hands to play the pipa.”

When she was twenty, in Chang’an’s Daming Palace, using the pipa given to her, she played a tune she had taught her. And she bestowed upon her a box of rosin powder—the poison that seeped through those hands ended the life that Mei Wanzhi had extended by fifteen years.

Huang Zixia stood under the tree and softly asked: “Such an ending… could it be called… no ending at all?”

“Who says there isn’t one? Making the murderer know she killed her daughter with her own hands, forcing her to live in nightmares forever—isn’t that the greatest punishment for her?” Li Shubai said, then shook his head and continued, “However, since she could cast aside her young daughter from her side back then, this time, she’ll surely be able to cast her from her heart as well. A woman who can live so well in the palace will never fail in this life.”

“And Chen Nianniang, though she succeeded in her revenge by leading her enemy to commit the crime of killing her daughter, will probably live with the guilt in her conscience for the rest of her life,” Huang Zixia said softly. “As for Empress Wang, she is still a woman after all, isn’t she? At least no matter how formidable she is, she still couldn’t help but break down and cry for her lost daughter.”

Sunlight filtered through the blue-green branches, falling sparsely on the two of them.

In this gentle sunlight, Huang Zixia thought of the Emperor known for his gentleness and kindness.

Earlier, outside the memorial hall, when Li Shubai spoke of this case and hinted that the murderer might be Empress Wang, he had merely glanced at her sideways, then closed his eyes and slowly said: “If the imperial family’s face can be saved and no outsiders know, then naturally I need to know the truth when the Empress breaks the law, and I will discipline her accordingly.”

The so-called twelve years of sharing bed and food, loving like common married couples, crumbled in the face of the capital’s swirling rumors of “the Emperor’s nobility and the Empress’s martial spirit”—no emperor would tolerate such a relationship of equality with his empress.

The imperial couple, palace ruler, and consort.

Huang Zixia gazed at the sunlight overhead, lost in thought.

Li Shubai glanced at her and said: “Are you still not happy?”

Huang Zixia didn’t speak, just turned to look at him.

“The Empress has a strong personality and has increasingly interfered in state affairs in recent years, often abusing her power to punish people, and even the Emperor couldn’t stop her. This time you’ve helped the Emperor give her such a great punishment—you could be considered to have rendered great service.”

“Does the Emperor truly believe what I said about being a distant relative of the Huang family?”

“Whether he believes it or not doesn’t matter, but since the Emperor has promised, he will soon issue an edict to thoroughly reinvestigate your family’s wrongful case. When that time comes, I will personally accompany you to Sichuan.”

Hearing his calm tone, Huang Zixia felt her chest tighten for a moment.

Sichuan, where her parents and relatives were buried.

Now, she would soon return there, to overturn that iron case, to wash away the blood of the wrongful hatred she carried, to dig out that murderer.

A feeling both gratifying and bitter welled up from her heart, leaving her standing dazed before him in this early summer weather.

She wasn’t sure if it was joy or sorrow.