Half a month had passed since the Crown Prince incident. All surface conflicts and contradictions had returned to calm. To most people, this matter of deposing the Crown Prince had gradually subsided. The Crown Prince was deposed and, together with Consort Jiang, imprisoned in a secret villa belonging to the imperial family in the capital, with special guards assigned. Though the Emperor hadn’t issued an edict to execute the Crown Prince, deposing him and imprisoning him forever already indicated the Crown Prince was finished. This meant that beside His Majesty, those with the best chance of inheriting the throne were now only Third Prince Tuoba Zhen and Seventh Prince Tuoba Yu. Of course, Eighth Prince was gradually growing up too, but after all, his wings weren’t yet fully fledged. Compared to the other two, he basically had no possibility of competing for the throne. Moreover, with Consort Lian now in the palace, Consort Rou, who had originally been somewhat favored, became dispensable. So Eighth Prince was overlooked by everyone. People were all speculating—who would be the next Crown Prince?

Shortly after, news came from the palace that the Empress had passed away.

This was expected news. The Empress had long been gravely ill and, having suffered such a blow, her death was only a matter of time. All the Empress Dowager could do for her was let her die peacefully in her position as Empress—nothing more. Li Weiyang wasn’t surprised. She simply went directly to the Lotus Fragrance Courtyard to visit Old Madam Li, whose health had improved slightly, only to see Jiang Yuelan sitting to one side. She smiled and said, “Mother.”

Jiang Yuelan nodded lightly: “No need for formalities.” Since that incident, she hadn’t grown any closer to Li Weiyang. Her reason for revealing Jiang Lan and the others’ plans to Li Weiyang was merely to leave herself another path of retreat. With Li Weiyang owing her such a favor, she wouldn’t make things too difficult for her, and she could continue living in the Li Manor. Of course, she also frequently sent beauties to Li Xiaoran, only asking that he not pursue past matters and preserve her current position as Lady Li.

Li Weiyang glanced at Nanny Luo and proactively took the medicinal soup from her hands, walked to sit beside Grandmother, and said gently, “Grandmother, with the Empress’s passing this time, His Majesty will certainly hold funeral rites. Your health—I’m afraid it’s not suitable for entering the palace.”

Old Madam Li’s previously pale complexion had improved considerably. Hearing this, she frowned: “Others may not know, but surely you do? Why the Empress was confined to the palace—now that she’s suddenly passed away, His Majesty won’t—”

Li Weiyang gently fed a spoonful of medicinal soup to Old Madam Li’s lips, then handed over candied fruit before smiling at Jiang Yuelan: “No, His Majesty will certainly hold rites, and according to proper Empress protocol, conducted earnestly.”

Old Madam Li showed a puzzled expression. If this were the past, with her shrewdness, she would have already perceived the mystery within. But today, she was so confused. After all, Grandmother was sixty years old this year. Li Weiyang sighed. Some things were irreversible—like aging, like wisdom. She said softly, “If His Majesty wanted the Empress to die quietly without notice, he would have directly stripped her of her Empress title. But now she still holds the Empress position… So when the Empress passes away, naturally it should be conducted according to Empress protocol.”

After careful consideration, Old Madam Li nodded: “Correct. Though His Majesty’s intention to depose the Empress is fact and known to all, as long as the Empress hasn’t been officially deposed even for one day, she should be buried according to Empress protocol. You’re right. I should prepare to enter the palace.”

Li Weiyang quickly said, “Grandmother, but your health hasn’t fully recovered—”

Old Madam Li shook her head: “Never mind that I’ve already improved somewhat. Even if I were terminally ill, such ceremonies must be attended without exception. Otherwise, it would be contempt for the imperial family—such a charge we cannot bear.” Seeing Li Weiyang’s expression showed genuine concern, Grandmother patted her hand: “Moreover, your father is currently at the center of controversy. How can I provide such a handle for others to grasp?”

Li Weiyang paused, then nodded: “Then Weiyang will certainly attend you at all times.”

Hearing this, Nanny Luo’s face showed joy: “Then we thank Third Miss.” As a princess and the Empress Dowager’s adopted daughter, Li Weiyang naturally had to attend the Empress’s funeral. But a servant like herself had no qualification to enter the palace. Old Madam Li truly needed someone to care for her.

Li Weiyang said, “Nanny Luo needn’t worry. Isn’t Mother here too?”

Everyone’s gaze fell on Jiang Yuelan. They saw her pause upon hearing this, then nod: “Yes, I will also accompany her.” She was Prime Minister Li’s wife, a dignified First-Rank Lady. For ordinary banquets, claiming illness was acceptable, but at such occasions, even Li Xiaoran couldn’t prevent her attendance. No matter how much he currently detested this wife, it was the same.

That afternoon, the palace edict indeed came down: court was suspended for three days, bells and drums silenced. Civil officials of third rank and above, military officials of fifth rank and above, and all fifth-rank and above titled ladies, upon hearing the news, were to don plain clothes the next morning and proceed to Chengfu Palace, entering in mourning dress to perform rites. Gold, pearl, silver, jade jewelry and cosmetics were forbidden. Mourning dress consisted of hemp cloth head covering, hemp cloth shirt, hemp cloth long skirt, and hemp cloth shoes. All other civil and military officials were to wear deep mourning. From the day mourning dress was donned, for twenty-seven days, military and civilian men and women alike were to wear plain clothes for three days.

All funeral protocols weren’t drafted by the Ministry of Rites but personally annotated by the Emperor’s vermillion brush—so solemn and serious, completely unlike the treatment of a guilty Empress. Hearing Nanny Luo’s report, Grandmother couldn’t help but say, “Weiyang, you were right. His Majesty intends to conduct this grandly.”

From the morning when Li Weiyang heard of the Empress’s passing, she had already removed all gold and silver ornaments and changed into plain clothes. Hearing this, she said, “Therefore, please Grandmother, quickly give orders to have all servants wear plain clothes immediately.”

Grandmother frowned: “With over a hundred people in the entire manor, even opening the storehouses won’t be enough. I’m afraid we’ll need to purchase more. But once this news spreads, within an hour, the coarse hemp in those silk shops will be swept clean. Still, quickly order people to go buy some outside!”

Li Weiyang smiled: “After speaking with you this morning, Weiyang already discussed with Mother and went ahead to purchase much coarse hemp. I expect it should suffice!”

Grandmother breathed a sigh of relief: “That’s good! That’s good!” When Li Weiyang had spoken this morning, she had thought they should wait and see. If they rashly mourned a guilty Empress, malicious rumors might spread. Better to wait until clear edicts came from above. But unexpectedly, by afternoon the palace news had returned. Preparing now was somewhat rushed—fortunately, Li Weiyang was action-oriented.

Old Madam Li thought, then said, “Order them—besides everyone changing to plain clothes from top to bottom, remember to hang white lanterns at the entrance and white banners in the corridors.”

Li Weiyang responded, “Yes, Grandmother, rest assured. Weiyang understands everything.”

Grandmother looked at her young face and sighed, “One cannot refuse to acknowledge age. I’m already powerless. Many Li family matters must rely on you siblings. I hope you can work together harmoniously so others won’t look down on the Li family.”

Li Weiyang paused, then realized something and couldn’t help but frown: “Grandmother, please don’t say such inauspicious things. Your granddaughter feels terrible hearing this…”

Grandmother smiled. The wrinkles at the corners of her eyes gradually relaxed: “Foolish child, everyone has this moment. Instructing you on some matters in advance—if something unexpected happens, I can also leave in peace. Your father is selfish and has always favored legitimate children, causing you and Minzhi considerable grievances. I know all this. So I’ve already done my best to compensate you and Minzhi. Though he has wronged you in places, I have never treated you poorly even slightly, have I?”

Li Weiyang’s heart stirred, her eyes warming slightly: “Grandmother, you have never wronged Weiyang in the slightest.”

“That’s good. So I hope you won’t always dwell on your father’s faults. He’s already my only son. Even with a thousand or ten thousand faults, don’t expect too much from him. No matter what, remember he’s your birth father—that’s enough.” As Grandmother spoke, she quietly watched Li Weiyang’s expression.

Li Weiyang smiled faintly: “Grandmother, I understand your meaning completely. So please, set your mind at ease and focus on recuperating.” No matter what, Li Xiaoran was her and Li Minzhi’s birth father. Even if only for Li Minzhi and Grandmother’s sake, she wouldn’t do anything to Li Xiaoran. But this was merely showing mercy, not having father-daughter affection. That bit of meager familial feeling and expectation toward her father had long ceased to exist.

Early in the morning, carriages lined up outside the gates of noble households, all in plain colors. Whether high-ranking officials, dignified ladies, or delicate young misses—men, women, old and young, all wore plain clothes. As for the servants driving the carriages, they all wore hemp cloth garments. At a glance, everything was a sea of white mourning.

The Li Manor’s people rose early, seeing off Old Madam Li, Jiang Yuelan, Li Weiyang, and others to the entrance. Though everyone knew these were ladies of proper rank, seeing Tan Shi among them, Second Madam’s expression grew somewhat stiff.

“She actually came?!” Second Madam whispered to Old Madam Li.

Old Madam Li frowned and rebuked, “How improper! Tan Shi is a Third-Rank Lady of Virtue, the same rank as you. What reason is there for her not to go!” With that, supported by attendants, she led the way into the first carriage.

Second Madam, rebuffed, couldn’t help but snort coldly.

Tan Shi, similarly in full mourning dress, appeared even more anxious and uneasy on her delicate face. After all, she was of humble birth, merely a forgotten Seventh Concubine in the manor. No one ever gave her a second glance. But her daughter’s exceptional qualities had earned her this protection. Even so, like someone accustomed to solitude suddenly thrust into the spotlight, she felt uneasy and afraid. But she turned her face aside, appearing unconcerned. She knew that if she revealed this fear, others would mock Li Weiyang even more. If she herself was worthless, so be it—but how could she harm her daughter, making her as looked down upon as herself?

Seeing Tan Shi’s appearance, Second Madam couldn’t help but sneer coldly: “Mud will always be mud—can’t be lifted onto walls. No matter how others elevate her, it’s useless!”

Suddenly someone behind her laughed coldly: “Yes, mud will always be mud—only focused on mocking others, never recognizing their own status.”

Second Madam flew into a rage. Turning to look, her eyes lifted mockingly: “Who do I think it is? So it’s First Madam. Oh my, when did you and Tan Shi become so close?”

Jiang Yuelan sneered coldly: “Second Madam, whether our relationship is good or not—what business is it of yours? I advise you to speak less. Otherwise, when someone hears later, be careful you can’t handle the consequences!” She wasn’t helping Tan Shi—she simply detested Second Madam’s habit of kicking people when they were down. Every time she thought of Second Madam’s cold mockery and sarcasm when she herself suffered disaster, Jiang Yuelan’s heart burned with fire.

Second Madam glared angrily: “You think I fear Li Weiyang? What is she?”

Tan Shi, who had been keeping silent, immediately frowned upon hearing this: “Second Madam, the Princess is the Princess—the Empress Dowager’s adopted daughter. By rights, even Ninth Princess must address her as ‘aunt.’ With your attitude, if others knew, wouldn’t you be showing contempt for the imperial family?”

Though incompetent and weak, having others discuss her daughter like this still made her angry enough to retaliate recklessly. Second Madam stared at Tan Shi in shock, momentarily speechless: “You—”

She wanted to say something but somehow closed her mouth and quickly boarded the carriage. Tan Shi thought she would face Second Madam’s retaliation but didn’t know why she suddenly fell silent. Still wondering, she turned around only to discover Li Weiyang in that carriage lifting the curtain to look this way. Immediately she understood why Second Madam had stopped. So… they were so afraid of Weiyang!

Tan Shi suddenly understood. Beside her, Jiang Yuelan walked over and sighed: “I really want to know—with your gentle personality, how did you have such a formidable daughter?”

Tan Shi paused, her face reddening. Though Jiang Yuelan was barely older than Weiyang, she was Li Xiaoran’s second wife. Though this relationship wasn’t improper, it always felt somewhat awkward. She said, “Madam—”

Jiang Yuelan smiled faintly, a trace of mockery flashing through her eyes: “Sometimes I truly fear her. When she says one sentence, my heart trembles for ages, wishing she hadn’t seen me.”

Tan Shi was puzzled. Why did everyone in the Li Manor speak of Li Weiyang as if discussing a tiger with such fear… She didn’t understand, because before her, Li Weiyang was just a somewhat cold but mild-tempered young woman. But Jiang Yuelan had spoken, and Tan Shi couldn’t not respond. She could only say, “Weiyang’s nature is a bit cold—”

Cold? More like vicious, right? Jiang Yuelan prided herself on intelligence, always thinking Li Weiyang was inferior to her in every way. Why could she possess everything? But now she understood—many things Li Weiyang could do, she couldn’t. So she had no choice but to admit defeat. Moreover, she didn’t want to die mysteriously like the previous First Madam… In all matters, keeping away from Li Weiyang—that couldn’t be wrong.

“Let’s go.” Jiang Yuelan smiled faintly and turned to board the carriage.

Tan Shi looked toward Li Weiyang in the distant carriage, her face even more puzzled. Though Weiyang’s personality was strong, it shouldn’t reach the point where everyone feared her. Why was this? Unable to understand, she stopped overthinking and turned to instruct the wet nurse, Bai Zhi, and others: “Take good care of Fourth Young Master.”

Bai Zhi nodded: “Rest assured, Miss has already made arrangements.”

Only then did Tan Shi feel at ease and board the carriage.

At the entrance to Chengfu Palace, everyone lined up in fixed protocol and sequence. Li Weiyang didn’t stand with the imperial family. In her view, being the Empress Dowager’s adopted daughter sounded prestigious but actually had no practical meaning. Moreover, she had first rejected Seventh Prince’s marriage proposal, then orchestrated Princess Yongning’s marriage alliance. Regardless of how much the Empress Dowager knew, when facing her, her attitude was somewhat awkward, as if not knowing how best to treat her.

Though wails of grief already rose loudly before Chengfu Gate, how many truly wept in sorrow for this guilty Empress? Li Weiyang covered her face with a handkerchief, also concealing the cold smile at her lips. The Emperor had merely lost a wife—one now out of favor and Empress in name only—yet demanded all subjects under heaven grieve with him. Moreover, judging by the funeral protocols, the specifications were extremely strict.

However, she could understand. Even if the Emperor and Empress had privately become enemies, he would still conduct grand funeral rites. Though the dead no longer knew, it could comfort the living. So this funeral was entirely performed for the living to see, displaying his deep affection for the Empress and the imperial family’s ceremonial majesty.

Just then, Li Weiyang saw Princess Anguo. Their gazes, piercing through the heavy crowd, inadvertently met. Princess Anguo involuntarily revealed an expression of resentment. But Li Weiyang seemed not to notice, only lowering her head like others, showing extreme sorrow—though in fact, it was merely weeping without grief. Others might have some respect for the Empress, but Li Weiyang was precisely the one who had sent both Empress and Crown Prince off. How could she feel sorrow?

Princess Anguo stared at Li Weiyang full of hatred. Her eyes shifted and inadvertently fell on a lady not far from the Li Manor group. Then she froze. Past that lady, she actually saw Sun Yanjun in full mourning dress, face extremely pale, eyes ringed with dark circles, lips somehow blood-red, smiling at her.

Though very distant, Princess Anguo recognized her at first glance—that was Sun Yanjun! That scene immediately flooded into her mind.

“Princess, spare me! I don’t fear death, but I’ve just conceived. I know nothing of your secret! I can swear to heaven!” At the time, that woman’s desperate pleas had been cast aside as she mercilessly threw her to the hidden guards.

In fact, Sun Yanjun hadn’t merely discovered Princess Anguo’s secret. Most importantly, the instant Princess Anguo heard about the pregnancy, she was filled with terrible jealousy.

Princess Anguo herself could never become a mother, much less understand a mother’s desperate desire to protect her child. She only felt fury—immense fury mixed with irrepressible jealousy. She truly couldn’t understand why she, the exalted Princess Anguo, couldn’t experience the happiness an ordinary woman could enjoy her entire life. Sun Yanjun—her appearance was ordinary, her family ordinary, her husband ordinary, yet she could show such a happy smile. How dare she! No one could be happier than Princess Anguo! No one!

Princess Anguo couldn’t bear it—not even slightly! She was insanely jealous of Sun Yanjun. So without hesitation, without a trace of mercy, she made her decision!

Yes, Sun Yanjun was already dead, and she had wanted her never to be reborn as a woman, so she had sliced open her lower body and abdomen! For a moment, Princess Anguo thought her eyes deceived her. But when she rubbed them and looked again, she stared in terror at that person in the crowd—watching her stand in the wind like a delicate morning glory, smiling at her. Though that smile was infinitely gentle, in this sea of mourning dress, such a smiling face was utterly jarring. And terrifying.

Princess Anguo could no longer maintain composure and suddenly shrieked, “It’s you! It’s you! It’s you!” Screaming, she suddenly ran forward through the crowd like a madwoman, grabbing Tuoba Zhen: “She’s here! Catch her! Catch her!”

Everyone’s expressions changed. Li Weiyang raised her head, a barely perceptible cold smile at her lips.

Tuoba Zhen grabbed Princess Anguo’s arm: “Anguo, what are you doing!” Didn’t she know this was the Empress’s funeral, with so many eyes watching? How could she suddenly shout like this!

“She’s here! I saw her! Look, look, look quickly!” In this instant, Princess Anguo had completely lost all composure. She desperately pointed over there, wishing she could drag Tuoba Zhen to look. Originally she wouldn’t be so afraid—after all, countless people had died by her hand. But somehow, she could never forget Sun Yanjun’s desperate expression clutching her abdomen. That expression was so tragic—she had never seen anything like it…

Her loss of composure had already alarmed everyone. Baffled, they all looked where she pointed. However, at that spot stood only General Sun’s wife quietly. Lady Sun raised her head, looking toward Princess Anguo. In that instant, something flashed quickly through her eyes. Yet her mouth remained unusually calm: “What’s wrong with the Princess? Is there some problem?”

Princess Anguo shrieked, “Behind her! Behind her!”

But when everyone looked again behind Lady Sun, there were only officials’ wives and young ladies, their faces showing astonished expressions, completely baffled.

Everyone’s faces showed strange expressions. What was happening? Had Princess Anguo gone mad? Or had she just seen something?

Tuoba Zhen frowned, his handsome face carrying a trace of gloom as he rebuked in a low voice, “Calm down!”

Princess Anguo saw it too—behind Lady Sun, Sun Yanjun, who had originally stood there, seemed never to have existed. Her teeth felt cold, her body trembled: “How can this be? I clearly saw her! She was there! She was there!”

Tuoba Zhen finally grew angry: “Father Emperor will arrive soon. If you continue to disgrace yourself, I will absolutely not tolerate you any longer!”

Princess Anguo stamped her foot violently, wishing she could have everyone stand aside so her hidden guards could search person by person. Unfortunately, it was impossible to do so. Moreover, her hidden guards couldn’t enter the palace at all. Seeing Tuoba Zhen didn’t believe her, she couldn’t help but say hatefully, “I’ll prove it to you! She must be hiding here! She must be!” Though initially frightened, Princess Anguo was after all an extremely vicious character. A towering fury momentarily overcame her fear. Then she hardened her heart and rushed forward, searching through the crowd—among those mourning-dressed women—for Sun Yanjun. However, at this moment, besides ranked officials and titled ladies, plus palace maids and eunuchs, over a thousand people filled this plaza. Now, startled by Princess Anguo, everyone was somewhat chaotic. Trying to find one woman also dressed in white from among them was pure fantasy.

Princess Anguo’s hair became disheveled from running, her eyes unfocused. Yet there was no trace of Sun Yanjun. She looked bewildered at those pale faces, all with identical expressions, identical whispered discussions.

“See? This Princess Anguo must have madness. Why else would she suddenly go mad?” “Who did she say she saw? Who would be here?” “Yes, she wouldn’t have done something guilty and be so afraid, would she?!” “Hard to say. Recently at Third Prince’s manor, she’s beaten quite a few beautiful women to death. It’s inevitable their vengeful spirits would cling to her!”

In Yue Xi, though Princess Anguo had killed countless people, with Empress Dowager Pei’s indulgence and protection, no one dared discuss her publicly. But here, these people were so bold. It made her furious to the extreme. She shrieked loudly, “Are you all blind? Can none of you see? I’m not mad—you’re all mad!”

Just then, a gentle voice suddenly said, “Princess, you’re merely too tired. You should go rest quickly.” It was Li Weiyang, similarly in full mourning dress but slender in form with delicate features.

Seeing the person she most detested, Princess Anguo couldn’t help but say angrily, “Mind your own business!”

Li Weiyang merely said lightly, “Third Prince, your wife has acted so wildly at such a solemn occasion. What explanation will you give?”

Tuoba Zhen only felt a headache. Now he regretted immensely marrying Princess Anguo—such a willful, terrifyingly selfish woman. Fairly speaking, Princess Anguo was a very intelligent woman, but she had been too indulged, viewing all human life as worthless, with excessive killing. The result of such heavy slaughter was seeing hallucinations in broad daylight! He said angrily, “What are you all standing around for! Quickly help Third Prince Consort down to rest!”

Nearby palace maids quickly came to support Princess Anguo. After her outburst of rage, she too realized her impropriety. This was the Empress’s funeral—with so many eyes watching, such shouting wouldn’t make anyone believe her. They would only think she had truly gone mad. But she had clearly seen Sun Yanjun—why? What was happening? Could it truly be a vengeful ghost come to claim her life?

Princess Anguo felt a headache. Under everyone’s strange gazes and Tuoba Zhen’s warning eyes, she forcefully suppressed her anger and dissatisfaction, allowing herself to be supported away.

Li Weiyang and Lady Sun exchanged a glance. Lady Sun nodded to her. Two nights ago, Li Weiyang had visited late at night, laying out all her suspicions. Initially, Lady Sun didn’t believe Princess Anguo could be the murderer—after all, her daughter had no enmity with her. Why would she do such a terrible thing? But under Li Weiyang’s persuasion, she decided to try.

Li Weiyang had heard Lady Sun had a twin sister who had a daughter bearing five parts resemblance to Sun Yanjun. So the two plotted together and devised a plan. They secretly brought this young lady into the Sun Manor, disguised her, and prepared to find a suitable opportunity for Princess Anguo to see her, forcing her to lose composure under tremendous shock. At the time, Lady Sun still felt this plan might not work. But just last night, Li Weiyang sent word, requesting Lady Sun secretly bring this young lady into the palace to participate in the Empress’s funeral. Originally, this method was difficult to implement. But now with Consort Lian wielding absolute power in the palace, bringing certain people in was child’s play. Moreover, this young lady constantly covered her face with a handkerchief, showing sorrow like others, so no one noticed her… Once Princess Anguo caused chaos and the crowd grew disordered, palace maids immediately led that woman away in the confusion. Everyone wore mourning dress—for Princess Anguo to find that woman among the crowd was harder than ascending to heaven.

When Lady Sun saw Princess Anguo’s terrified expression, she immediately believed Li Weiyang’s judgment. The murderer who killed her daughter was Princess Anguo. The unease originally in her heart also vanished. For a murderer, no treatment was too cruel—especially since her own daughter had died so miserably!

Li Weiyang watched Princess Anguo leave, sneering coldly as she shifted her gaze away. Did she think this was the end? This was merely the beginning.

Princess Anguo was supported by palace maids to a side hall of Antai Palace, specifically for guests to rest. The maid said respectfully, “Princess, Third Prince requests you rest briefly. When he’s free, he’ll come visit you.”

Visit? When would he be free? The entire funeral ceremony would last three days! Princess Anguo’s face showed immense resentment. But she was in the palace—in Great Calendar—with none of her guards beside her. So she must restrain herself. She waved her hand coldly: “Get out!”

The maid said respectfully, “Yes.” Her gaze paused momentarily on the calming incense nearby before she quietly withdrew.

Princess Anguo muttered to herself, “I must have seen wrong. I must have! The jade pendant I wear wards off evil. All these years, never any vengeful spirits. There are no ghosts in this world! I must have seen wrong! Yes, just rest a bit and everything will be fine!” She lay on a beauty couch, forcing herself to close her eyes, not thinking of that terrifying scene.

At this time, a calming incense began permeating the great hall—faint, refreshing to the spirit. Having stayed in the palace long, Princess Anguo naturally recognized the scent of calming incense. Indeed, it made one’s mind peaceful. Unknowingly, she fell into slumber.

From birth, she had never been a complete woman. In everyone’s eyes, she was high and mighty, invincible. But who could detect the insane jealousy and hatred in her heart? She hated all women, especially seeing them marry, bear children, possess happy ordinary lives. She wished they would all disappear! In Yue Xi, she constantly seduced young officials and generals, toying with them, making them lose their minds over her, abandon their wives. This made her happy, satisfied. Then she would kick them aside. No one dared complain. She needed only a handkerchief, a glance, to make men lose their souls, dreaming of becoming her consort.

But none succeeded, because she had never liked any of them. Though Father Emperor was strict and had punished her countless times for this, each time she could hide under Empress Dowager Pei’s protection. The last time, she harmed a minister Father Emperor greatly liked. The man’s wife, after being abandoned, went mad, mistakenly killed their twin children, then hanged herself. This incident caused great uproar. When Father Emperor learned of it, he once wanted to execute her to pay the debt. Empress Dowager Pei immediately found ways to have her accompany the envoy mission to Great Calendar, hoping she could avoid the storm. But after seeing Third Prince Tuoba Zhen, she somehow fell in love at first sight.

Perhaps because he was intelligent, wise, capable. Perhaps because beneath his surface smile hid darkness and coldness like her own. She felt she had found her kind. Moreover, she felt he could tolerate her secret… However, he truly didn’t care—didn’t even concern himself with why she couldn’t share his bed. He only wanted to spend nights with other women. How could she permit it! So she killed those concubines! Later, fearing her secret would leak, she killed innocent Sun Yanjun! She had never been afraid—after all, her hands were stained with blood. But why had she actually seen a ghost today!

In her dreams, Princess Anguo was extremely restless. She dreamed of countless vengeful spirits demanding her life, invading her dreams. Finally, she saw the blood-soaked Sun Yanjun appear in her dream. Her delicate body lay bit by bit on the ground, those desperate eyes full of pleading, despair. Yet Princess Anguo mercilessly stepped on her abdomen… The final scene was that white-clothed woman standing in the crowd, smiling at her. Princess Anguo suddenly opened her eyes, frightened into drenching sweat.

Princess Anguo cried out, “Save me! Save me!”

Palace maids outside ran in. Princess Anguo shouted, “Call the guards! Call my guards!” She clearly meant those hidden guards. However, those people couldn’t be allowed into the palace. Four palace maids looked at each other. The lead maid’s eyes flashed with something crafty as she said softly, “Yes.”

The maid found a guard responsible for guarding this palace. He walked in trembling, prostrating at Princess Anguo’s feet: “Third Prince Consort.”

Princess Anguo knew she must rest. Once her emotions settled, she must quickly return to continue attending the funeral. Otherwise, she would become the entire city’s laughingstock, and everyone would think she was mad. But now her legs were weak, her entire body ice-cold. She simply couldn’t stand up.

She said coldly, “You—stand guard at this entrance. If vengeful spirits come, you must strike them down for me!”

The guard’s face showed a strange expression. But looking at Princess Anguo’s young, beautiful yet imperious face, he involuntarily swallowed, suppressing the stirring fantasies in his heart, and lowered his head: “Yes.” He began missing the charming little palace maid from last night. Though the woman was unwilling, he had still forcibly tricked her into sleeping with him. He withdrew to the side, but his gaze still involuntarily lingered on Princess Anguo’s ample bosom.

Princess Anguo paid no attention to this guard. She sank into countless troubles. Even with eyes open, she seemed to see countless vengeful spirits rushing at her. She forced herself to close her eyes, muttering incantations. However, perhaps the calming incense scent was too strong—she quickly quieted down, again falling into sleep… But in barely half a moment, she was awakened again by funeral bells, crying out in panic, “She’s coming! She’s coming!” That guard immediately ran to her side, bravely standing beside her, attempting to combat the ghosts he couldn’t even see.

Princess Anguo’s eyes widened in terror.

When the man approached her, she inadvertently saw his athletic physique. In that instant, she suddenly rushed forward like a madwoman and embraced him: “Don’t leave! You know I love you most! Everything I did was for you!”

She didn’t see a young guard but the handsome Third Prince Tuoba Zhen.

No, don’t abandon her. Princess Anguo pleaded, “I heard Sun Yanjun’s voice. So terrifying, truly terrifying!”

She clutched “Tuoba Zhen” even harder. But she couldn’t have imagined she was grasping a lowly guard. Only now she had forgotten everything, as if that calming incense scent grew increasingly strong, making her completely lose her senses.

That guard was naturally lecherous. He dared not touch palace consorts, but he had taken advantage of countless little palace maids. Yesterday he was caught red-handed by Consort Lian. He thought he was doomed, but unexpectedly Consort Lian forgave him, merely transferring him to this palace—truly escaping death. He had originally wanted to reform, but old habits died hard. Seeing Princess Anguo, he instantly forgot everything!

Receiving such favor from the beautiful Prince Consort, he thought he had ascended to heaven, never considering the true reason was that calming incense. He turned and pushed Princess Anguo down, beginning his familiar seduction. He smiled obsequiously, “You’re just too tired. I won’t leave—I’m right here, helping you massage.” His hand fell on Princess Anguo’s forehead, gently massaging, then he began massaging her body, moving downward from calves to thighs. Princess Anguo slowly quieted, as if asleep, as if unconscious. He grew bolder, massaging and caressing like this, then quite naturally removed her clothing, impatiently exploring Princess Anguo’s body. Just then, he suddenly froze, his entire being seeming to transform into a puppet. Then, as if receiving tremendous shock, he completely froze, unable to speak half a word, his eyes full of terror!

Just then, a palace maid outside said, “Third Prince Consort is resting. Please wait a moment—”

The guard was startled and quickly jumped from the bed. At the same time, that maid gently pushed open the hall door: “Third Prince Consort, Consort Rou is passing by and has come to visit you—” Just as she saw clearly inside the hall—a man and woman in disheveled clothing embracing—she screamed once and flung open the palace door, letting Consort Rou and dozens of palace maids behind her see clearly the scene inside the hall…