A bloody feast of tearing and biting — in less than half an hour, everything settled back into calm.

Zizhu was the first to turn back around, only to find the floor a mess of blood, flesh, and bone scattered everywhere — a once-whole person, torn apart into pieces just like this!

The floor soaked in blood, drenching one piece after another of remains — even Zizhu, seeing it, couldn’t help but retch.

And Jun Buli, in his pristine white palace robes, was now completely soaked through with blood. He lay sprawled in the pool of blood, seemingly unconscious.

Though Zizhu felt sick, it still managed to steady itself. “Hurry, clean this up — what are you all standing there for?”

At the command, Jiuwei the nine-tailed fox, Henggong the fish, and the rabbit spirit all turned back around. The rabbit spirit was so frightened its fur stood completely on end, but they had no choice but to rush and clean up this disgusting mess.

Back before Consort Li had appeared, every one of the young master’s episodes had ended in scenes just like this one — and it had always been them cleaning up afterward.

It was just that it had been so long since they’d had to clean up like this that they could barely stomach the revulsion this time.

The young master only bit — he never actually swallowed the blood, flesh, or bone. Still, even so, it was disgusting enough for them to look at, let alone for the young master himself.

“Hurry up! What if he wakes up in a moment and gets angry again!” Zizhu urged. But just as they were about to start cleaning, Jun Buli suddenly raised his arm.

At this, all four poisonous beasts froze in place, exchanging glances, not daring to move.

After a long moment, seeing that Jun Buli had only raised his arm and said nothing more, Zizhu carefully took a step, moving closer to him. Seeing no further reaction, Zizhu let out a breath of relief and said quietly, “Hurry up!”

“No one move!”

Suddenly, Jun Buli spoke coldly. He remained motionless, his arm still hanging in midair, yet his voice was chillingly, completely lucid.

Zizhu glanced at the other three beasts, looking sheepish and timid, hesitating for a long while before finally speaking up quietly to console him. “Young master, it’s over now. Go to sleep. Rest easy.”

To their surprise, Jun Buli snapped harshly, “Get out!” Zizhu was startled badly, and before it could even recover, Jun Buli waved his hand, and all four beasts vanished into thin air at once, drawn back into the Qiankun Poison Pouch.

The empty room fell silent all at once. Under the faint lamplight, the pool of blood on the floor reflected back a strange, gleaming shimmer — everything near dead silence, so quiet that only Jun Buli’s heavy breathing could be heard.

In truth, he hadn’t fainted at all. He had been conscious the whole time, fully aware of exactly what he’d just done. He simply didn’t have the courage to lift his head and look at his own “handiwork.”

The stench of blood filled the air, his clothes soaking wetter and wetter with it, and gradually, he began to catch the smell of rotting death.

He lay sprawled on the ground, his hands slowly, slowly clenching into fists, tighter and tighter, until the veins bulged along the backs of his hands.

How much fury, how much self-reproach, how much disappointment could there be!

All of it directed at himself.

He didn’t know how long he’d lain there, until sunlight finally streamed in and he realized dawn had broken.

As the sunlight poured in, it illuminated everything in the room clearly — anyone who didn’t know better might have mistaken it for a slaughterhouse, scattered bones and flesh everywhere.

But the head, not far off, torn and mangled beyond recognition, made it impossible to hide what had happened the night before.

Jun Buli slowly turned over, one hand shielding his eyes from the harsh light, the other still clenched into a fist.

Soon, once his eyes adjusted to the sunlight, he lowered his hand. Only then could his face be seen — deathly pale, drained of all color. Unlike the towering fury of the night before, his expression now was utterly blank.

He rose to his feet, silently surveying the wreckage around him, standing stunned for a long moment before, without a word, his eyes lowering, showing no other expression besides that.

He knelt down on one knee, personally gathering up the scattered remains, wiping up the pooled blood. Throughout the entire process, his silent face showed no change whatsoever.

He was young, in truth — only sixteen or seventeen years old. Yet in this moment, viewed from behind, he seemed to have aged to twenty-six or twenty-seven, for he carried shoulders that could bear the weight of the world, and bear all its pain too.

By the time everything had been cleaned up, the doors and windows opened, and the poisonous beasts withdrawn, evening had already arrived.

Jun Buli changed into a clean, loose-fitting purple outfit, his black hair casually tied up, and walked silently alone toward the study.

He didn’t seem to be in any rush to handle the matter of Consort Li. There was no morning court session today, and he needed to go to the study first.

Meanwhile, at Prince Yao’s residence, Ziqing was listening to Yingzi’s report.

Jun Buli had returned to the palace the night before — Ziqing naturally knew this. But even with Yingzi deployed, she still couldn’t figure out exactly what Jun Buli had been doing in Consort Li’s chambers.

“Consort Li isn’t even there — and he still stayed the whole night?” Ziqing said, skeptical.

“Your Highness, this servant personally saw the young master go in. But that palace hall is in the garden, and the entire perimeter of the garden was guarded by poisonous beasts. This servant couldn’t get close,” Yingzi answered honestly. In truth, ever since Consort Li had moved into the palace, she had always been under this kind of protection.

Ziqing gently soothed the little princess while pondering. What was certain now was that her son was definitely hiding some secret. What remained uncertain was whether that secret had anything to do with Consort Li.

“And what about Consort Li’s side?” Ziqing asked again.

“Your Highness, Consort Li seems quite certain the young master will save her. She’s living quite comfortably in the dungeon,” Yingzi answered.

“How many days has she been locked up?” Ziqing asked again.

“Counting today, exactly fifteen days,” Yingzi replied.

“Nothing unusual about her at all?” Ziqing asked again. She’d always had an inexplicable sense of unease about Consort Li, feeling that this girl wasn’t quite as brainless as she appeared on the surface.

“Everything’s normal,” Yingzi said. Just then, Jun Beiyue came in from outside, catching the tail end of Ziqing and Yingzi’s exchange at the door. He waved a hand to signal Yingzi to withdraw.

“Wait, there’s still more…”

Before Ziqing could finish asking, Jun Beiyue’s brow furrowed, and helplessly, Ziqing had no choice but to let Yingzi go.

The little princess had been curiously watching her mother, and though she couldn’t understand what was being said, she quite liked the sound of her voice. As Jun Beiyue drew closer, she shifted her gaze toward him and immediately broke into a grin, delighting Jun Beiyue so much he scooped her up at once.

With her hands free, Ziqing thought to get out of bed, but Hongyi hurried forward to stop her. “Milady, you’re still in your postpartum recovery!”

Before Ziqing could even respond, Jun Beiyue teased from the side, “As long as she remembers she’s supposed to be resting.”

Ziqing simply curled back up on the bed, saying seriously, “What do you think about our son’s situation?”

“Locking up Consort Li for no reason — you’re not exactly giving him much face,” Jun Beiyue said flatly.

“Kicking down the gate of the residence — that crime alone is enough to warrant wiping out her entire family,” Ziqing said coldly.

“Your son isn’t a fool. He can see right through your scheming against her,” Jun Beiyue said, ruthlessly stating the truth.

“I was left with no choice! What is it he can’t just tell us straight out?” Ziqing said, growing angry — or rather, to be precise, worried, worried about what might have happened to their son during these ten years of absence that he wasn’t willing to let them bear.