One month later.

The Emperor had at last regained the ability to speak, and his very first words were: “Summon the Crown Prince and the Crown Grandson.”

When the Crown Prince and the Crown Grandson arrived, the Emperor opened his mouth and asked: “Has Prince An’s funeral been properly arranged?”

The Crown Prince replied respectfully: “Father Emperor need not worry. A’Yao long since ordered people to have Prince An laid to rest.” He paused, then added: “Prince Yan is still being held in the Court of the Imperial Clan. However, A’Yao specifically ordered that his food be reduced — he can only eat until half-full at each meal. A way of letting him taste the same suffering Prince An endured.”

The Emperor had narrowly escaped death this time, and had lain bedridden for several months, sustained each day only on broths and liquids, so emaciated as to be barely recognizable. His forehead was covered in wrinkles and age spots, giving him the appearance of a man with little time left.

Having reached this state, the Emperor had at last come to terms with things, and said slowly: “The root cause of all these troubles lies with Prince Yan. It is truly inappropriate to keep him merely locked in the dungeons of the Court of the Imperial Clan. Having committed so grave a crime, he must be severely punished. Otherwise, in the future, people will follow his example, and both the court and the realm will fall into chaos.”

At least his mind has not gone entirely dim!

The Crown Grandson and the Crown Prince exchanged a glance but said nothing further.

The Emperor breathed out a long, slow breath: “Father and son we have been. Before I deal with him, I wish to see this rebellious son one final time.”

He wanted to ask that rebellious son in person — why, exactly, he had done what he had done!

As the Emperor’s emotions stirred, a strange flush rose across his gaunt face, and he coughed several times in succession. The Crown Grandson quickly moved closer and gently patted the Emperor’s back for a moment.

Only then did the Emperor recover his breath.

The Crown Prince hesitated briefly before speaking to advise: “Father Emperor wishes to deal with Prince Yan — why not simply issue an imperial decree? Why summon him to the palace again?”

What if Prince Yan spoke recklessly and vexed the Emperor into a serious turn?

The Emperor, however, was unusually stubborn: “Could that rebellious son vex me to death?! I must see him.”

The Crown Prince had no recourse but to comply.

That same afternoon, Prince Yan — confined in the Court of the Imperial Clan for a full year — finally saw the light of day once more.

To say “saw the light of day” was, in truth, only a matter of emerging from the dungeons of the Court of the Imperial Clan, only to be immediately escorted by a contingent of imperial guards into the palace.

Prince Yan too had grown dreadfully thin, his eyes sunken and lifeless, devoid of any vitality.

Upon entering the palace, he was not taken at once to the Zichen Hall. The Crown Grandson stood before Prince Yan and said evenly: “Attendants — prepare water for Prince Yan to bathe and change.”

“There is no need.” Prince Yan, who had not uttered a single word throughout the journey, suddenly opened his mouth. “Father Emperor is eager to see me, is he not? I will go to the Zichen Hall now.”

After a moment, a mocking cold smile floated to the corners of his lips: “In any case, let Father Emperor see what a wretched, disheveled state I am in — perhaps it will even dampen his fury somewhat. Spare me your false goodwill. Is this sorry state of mine not precisely what suits your purposes?”

The Crown Grandson, holding absolute authority with an aura that had grown increasingly formidable, was not provoked into anger by these words. He simply turned and instructed the several eunuchs standing to the side: “Did you not hear? Come and attend to Prince Yan’s bath at once.”

The eunuchs surged forward, “attending” to Prince Yan until he was thoroughly washed clean, then dressed in fresh garments.

Prince Yan found he could not struggle free. He simply stopped wasting his energy and allowed himself to be “attended to” with a cold, contemptuous laugh.

Upon arriving at the Zichen Hall, when Prince Yan beheld the Emperor — haggard and worn, his face bearing the very same sunken, lifeless look — not the slightest guilt arose in him. Instead, he broke into a strange laugh.

First came a wide grin, then the laughter grew louder and louder, until at last, tears were streaming down with it.

The Emperor’s face was dark as he simply watched Prince Yan laugh in that unhinged manner.

Prince Yan laughed until tears came, and did not wipe them away. He stood there looking at the Emperor lying on the bed — neither kneeling nor begging for mercy: “Father Emperor has already made up his mind to put this rebellious son to death. Why still summon me to the palace? To see this rebellious son one last time?”

The Emperor, goaded to fury until his face turned iron-blue, ground out through clenched teeth: “Rebellious son! I have asked myself whether I ever treated you poorly. You are my youngest son, and the legitimate heir of Empress Xu — I have always favored and indulged you. When Empress Xu was found lacking in a consort’s virtue and I stripped her of her title, I never blamed you in the slightest, and continued to treat you exactly as before.”

“And how did you repay me?”

“I trusted you — I listened to your suggestion and brought you along to the imperial villa to rest and take leisure. Yet you secretly colluded with Prince An and had people sent to assassinate both me and the Crown Prince…”

“Father Emperor, that is hardly a fair account!” Prince Yan cut the Emperor off with a flippant air. “It is true that I wished the Crown Prince dead. But that sword aimed at Father Emperor — I myself stepped in to block it. Had I truly wished for Father Emperor’s life, I could simply have stood aside and done nothing.”

The Emperor let out a cold laugh: “You still counted on me to stand behind you — you assumed that with the Crown Prince dead, I would make you heir. How could you bear to see me die, how could you bear to squander the opportunity you had spent such effort to create?”

“If that is what Father Emperor believes, there is nothing I can say.”

Prince Yan shrugged indifferently: “Victory and defeat are the laws of war. Having lost, I am entirely at Father Emperor’s disposal. Does Father Emperor intend to grant me poison wine, or to send me to the execution grounds and have my head struck off?”

His gaze swept across the room and fell on a nearby table. A tray had been set upon it, bearing a wine vessel and cup.

“It appears Father Emperor has prepared poison wine for me. Very well — death by poison at least leaves the body whole, which makes for a more dignified passage to the world below.”

The Emperor choked and sputtered with fury.

Prince Yan’s mocking laughter rose again: “All this performance at such a moment — for whose benefit? Look at the state Father Emperor is in — you have not long left yourself. I shall go ahead to the world below and wait. Very soon, our whole family can be reunited beneath the Yellow Springs.”

“You… you rebellious son! I truly misjudged you, and misplaced my trust in you!”

The Emperor, shaking, squeezed out these few words before the rage before his eyes went black and he collapsed into unconsciousness.

The Crown Grandson, who had been standing to the side all along, frowned sharply and immediately ordered Wei Yan summoned.

When Wei Yan entered and saw the Emperor’s face had taken on a bluish tinge, his heart sank with the certainty that something was gravely wrong. He hastened forward to administer acupuncture for emergency treatment.

With the Emperor’s condition, anger was the one thing most strictly forbidden. Each time he fell unconscious, it was a brush with the gates of death. Should he fail to be revived, his life would immediately be forfeit.

For a moment, the Zichen Hall was thrown into frantic commotion once more.

The one responsible for all of this felt not the slightest remorse.

Prince Yan watched with cold eyes for a moment, then — under the sharp, watchful stares of the imperial guards — walked over to the table and poured himself a cup of wine, drinking it down in a single draught.

The poison in the wine was exceedingly potent. The moment it entered his stomach, Prince Yan’s face began to take on a dark, blackened hue.

A searing heat like flames consumed his stomach, followed by a bone-corroding, excruciating pain.

Prince Yan appeared to feel nothing of it. He offered a word of praise — “Fine wine” — and proceeded to pour himself another cup, which he drank down as well.

His vision began to go dark.

The wine cup in his hand fell to the ground with a clatter.

Just as well — to let go like this and be done.

To sleep forever beneath the earth, to be reunited with his mother. No more scheming and calculating until his mind was worn to nothing, no more laboring endlessly to win the Emperor’s favor, no more the hollow back-and-forth of courtly pleasantries with officials at court.

Prince Yan’s body swayed, then collapsed heavily to the ground.