A layer of mist covered the crow’s eyes.

This made its pupils appear especially clear and bright, though myriad emotions were blocked by this mist.

Yan Sanhe also slowly lowered her eyes, a bleak arc forming at the corners of her mouth.

“Do you know the fourth reason for your inevitable failure? It was the innate conscience in your character.

This conscience was inherited from your mother. Because of her kindness, magnanimity, forbearance, and intelligence, she received the posthumous title ‘Xiaoxian.’

But she was a woman, and you were a man.

You weren’t just a man—you were the Crown Prince, below one, above ten thousand times ten thousand.

If you had been even slightly more forceful, Tang Zhiwei should have been in your inner chambers—she wouldn’t have endured those eight years in the Music Bureau.

Tang Jianxi studied under the same master as you. He was exceptionally intelligent—with a bit of cultivation, he could have become like Chu Yanling, your right and left arms, assisting you to reach high position.

Just because he was your junior disciple, just because he had no interest in power, you let him go.

Dong Chengfeng needs even less mention.

A qin master, without power or influence—even the Magistrate of Jinling Prefecture could bully him by virtue of his position. Yet you made a three-year agreement with him.

When three years arrived, even though your insomnia still plagued you, you let him leave.

Most absurd was Chu Yanling.”

The mist in the crow’s eyes instantly dispersed.

It looked at Yan Sanhe, staring directly.

“I suspect that until his death, Chu Yanling never knew about Lin Bi, did he? Such an important matter—why didn’t you tell him?

You feared he would be heartbroken, feared he would suffer, feared that one Lin Bi would destroy the beautiful memories Chu Yanling treasured in his heart.

Is this what a Crown Prince should do?

Clearly not.

A Crown Prince’s approach would be to tell him the truth, let him be filled with hatred, and serve you even more devotedly unto death.

This was one friend’s actions toward another friend, this was a senior disciple’s secret protection of his junior disciple.”

Yan Sanhe slowly curved her lips into a cold smile.

“Conscience was incompatible with your status, incompatible with the great undertaking you were meant to achieve.

This was like two souls residing in your body—one forced to fight desperately in court, one yearning for clear wind and bright moon.

The struggle between two souls made you act hesitantly, looking forward and backward.

And what about Zhao Ji?

His every thought, every word and deed had only one念头—by any means necessary, sit on that dragon throne.

Ask yourself, could you compare with him?”

Yan Sanhe shook her head helplessly, her eyes slightly reddening.

“Zhao Lin, do you know—your kindness, gentleness, deep feelings, consideration, integrity, filial piety, benevolence… all of these were reasons for your failure.

From the moment you cried out at birth, the tragedy forty years later was actually already destined. This was both your fate and your karma.”

Immense sorrow, like tidal waves, enveloped the Yin Realm.

The color of the blood moon grew redder and redder—was it the blood of wronged souls flowing in the capital, or the tears he shed now!

In this world, what could be more cruel than those words Yan Sanhe just spoke?

Crown Prince Zhao Lin, from the moment of his birth, was designated Crown Prince;

What he sought in life was to be a virtuous enlightened sovereign whose name would be fragrant for a hundred generations;

Everyone thought this was his destiny;

But destiny told him: You can only be a deposed Crown Prince whose name will stink for ten thousand years.

Your kindness, gentleness, deep feelings, consideration, integrity, filial piety, benevolence—were these wrong?

Then were baseness, malice, hypocrisy, deceit, greed, treachery, and calculation right?

The mist in the crow’s eyes slowly gathered together, transforming into full fury, full repression, full grief.

Then it opened its sharp beak and raised its head in a mournful, piercing cry.

What kind of fate was this?

Was this just?

The long cry pierced the firmament. Black clouds in the sky churned wildly, pressing down like collapsing mountains and overturning seas.

A bolt of lightning split through, like a sharp long sword stabbing directly toward Yan Sanhe’s heart.

Yan Sanhe showed no trace of fear.

She looked into the crow’s eyes, her own eyes reddening, and laughed lowly.

“So what if it’s fate? So what if it’s unjust? So what if walking on thin ice, you couldn’t reach the far shore?

In my heart, you were a filial good son, a principled good student, a magnanimous good senior disciple, a sincere and true good friend, a gentle and deeply feeling good husband.”

These words, like an incantation breaking a formation, like withered grass meeting sweet dew, like a thoroughly chilled heart being thrown into hot water.

The crow’s eyes gradually heated, bit by bit.

Its dark, shadowy pupils stared fixedly at Yan Sanhe.

Fixedly.

Unmoving.

Yan Sanhe took another step forward, looking into its eyes, and said softly:

“I asked a good friend to inquire about the night Zhao Lin raised his troops. Some days ago, she sent me a secret letter. In the letter were only four characters: ‘Abandoned halfway.’

Doing something halfway and not finishing—this is called abandoning halfway;

Risking everything at the crucial moment, with no path of retreat, yet the long sword in hand ultimately unable to thrust toward his father—this is also called abandoning halfway.

He must have remembered childhood, when his father took his hand;

Remembered when slightly older, his father teaching him to draw the bow and nock arrows;

Remembered at his wedding, his father’s earnest exhortations;

Also remembered after mother’s death, when father suspended court for three days, grief overwhelming.

Look—the conscience in his heart came out to cause trouble again. How laughable, how weak, how incompetent!

Yet also how worthy of respect.

Humans are human precisely because compared to beasts, they have that little bit more conscience, don’t they?”

Yan Sanhe’s tears finally fell at this moment.

“When Tang Qiling was imprisoned, calculating people avoided him, treacherous people added insult to injury. But what did he do? He went resolutely to the prison.

That was his honored teacher—this journey he absolutely had to make.

What would he say to Tang Qiling?

Perhaps facing each other, they would say nothing; but I believe that before parting, he must have properly knelt on the ground and kowtowed three times to Tang Qiling.

Tang Qiling took his own life in prison.

Actually, a fraud case wouldn’t have cost his life—at most dismissal and exile. Yet he died.

Why did Tang Qiling die?

He feared the matter would implicate the Crown Prince.”

When one person willingly dies for another, what does that indicate? It indicates that person was worth dying for!

“After Tang Qiling’s death, Tang Zhiwei entered the Music Bureau—a daughter of heaven forced to submit beneath men of all kinds.

Eight years—by rights she should have slowly developed hatred, then directed all that hatred toward you.

But the previous heart demon told me there was no hatred in her heart. If there was any, it wasn’t toward you.

I imagine she must have often thought of you, remembered you raising your eyebrows and calling her ‘Weiwei,’ remembered you pointing at her helplessly and saying, ‘The teacher has spoiled you beyond all bounds.’

Later she entered a Buddhist nunnery, and in her entire life only left the nunnery three times. One of those times was when you were defeated and died.

No one knew where she went after leaving the nunnery.

But I think she must have hidden in some corner, shed tears for you, burned paper for you, recited many sutras for you.

Ask yourself—in this world, who else could make her do such things?”