Now that Crown Prince Liu Yi had taken over the administration of the court, it was said that when His Majesty was lucid, he had also expressed his wish to abdicate and recuperate from his illness, allowing Liu Yi to ascend the throne early.

The Imperial Household had already received the relevant decree and had begun making preparations for the new emperor’s enthronement ceremony.

Linlang knew that Tao Yashu would be extremely busy in the days ahead. Her pregnancy was far more advanced than Linlang’s own, and she could not afford to overexert herself.

So on the day of the Buddhist temple’s consecration ceremony, Linlang volunteered to take on the responsibilities of the new Buddha’s consecration rites. After all, when she had originally been granted the title of “Yiren,” she had already taken on the duties of offering prayers at the imperial temple, and she was well practiced in such matters.

Once she had arranged all these miscellaneous affairs, the Crown Prince and Crown Princess would only need to briefly appear and burn a stick of incense to pray for His Majesty’s recovery.

Yashu’s body felt heavy these days, and having someone to assist her was naturally welcome — but Linlang was also pregnant, and all this exertion might wear her out.

Linlang laughed and said: “It’s not as though I need to personally arrange the Buddha lamps myself. I only need to do a quick inspection beforehand to see whether anything is out of order. It won’t tire me out at all!”

Yashu found this reasonable, and smiled as she agreed.

In the past, whenever Chu Linlang went to the imperial temple, she had simply ridden alone in a single carriage — going and coming back on her own, light and unencumbered.

But this time, when she stepped down from the carriage, she saw several monks gathered before the mountain temple, along with the Sixth Prince’s consort who had arrived early, and a few officials’ wives — all waiting to receive her. She was quite startled.

As everyone smiled and came forward to welcome her, Linlang finally truly realized that she was no longer merely someone regarded as the imperial family’s lucky charm — she was also the wife of Situ Sheng, a first-rank minister of the highest standing at court.

Seeing how everyone fawned and smiled in flattery, Linlang could tell without even shaking her divination shell that her husband’s official fortunes were only going to rise higher still.

Among them, the Sixth Prince’s Consort was the most warm and familiar — she did not call her “Madame Chu” at all, but opened her mouth and addressed her at once as “Honored Teacher’s Wife.”

Since Situ Sheng had once been the tutor of the Sixth Prince, calling Chu Linlang his teacher’s wife was an especially affectionate form of address.

Although the Sixth Prince’s Consort addressed her with such familiarity, she was actually quite uneasy inside.

After all, when Chu Linlang had previously quarreled with the Zhou family over the dissolution of her marriage, the Sixth Prince’s Consort had leaned toward the other side. Though she had later heeded the Sixth Prince’s counsel and treated Chu Linlang with relative kindness, back then she had never in her wildest imaginings thought that Situ Sheng would actually marry Chu Linlang — the woman who had once served as a household manager at her own residence.

Looking back carefully, the Sixth Prince’s Consort found that she had been negligent toward her at every turn.

Now that the Fourth Prince and the former Crown Prince had both fallen from grace while Situ Sheng remained standing firm, he appeared to have struck up a harmonious rapport with a Third Prince who had seemingly emerged from nowhere — the picture of a loyal minister and enlightened ruler.

And Chu Linlang was close as sisters with Crown Princess Tao Yashu.

This time, without even needing the Sixth Prince’s instruction, the Sixth Prince’s Consort knew exactly how she ought to conduct herself. What she feared most was that Chu Linlang bore a grudge — specifically, the grievance of having her betrothed stolen away by her younger sister Xie Youran.

So after receiving Chu Linlang, wife of the Chief Privy Councillor, before the mountain temple, the Sixth Prince’s Consort took careful pains and, with an apologetic smile, informed her that her younger sister had already dissolved her marriage with Zhou Sui’an.

Under the arrangements of their father Xie Sheng, Xie Youran was to remarry as well. Only the match was quite distant — in Zhe City near the coast — to a forty-year-old widower surnamed Shang, a man of substantial means, holding a minor official rank of the sixth grade, with three children left behind by his deceased wife.

Xie Sheng, knowing his second daughter’s temperament well, had nearly worried himself to pieces over the matter. He had deliberately chosen a new son-in-law with a firm and forceful character, someone capable of reining in Xie Youran’s nature.

Moreover, since she was marrying far away, removed from the influence of the Xie family and her elder sister’s husband, she would certainly have to temper herself somewhat and settle down to a proper life.

The trouble was that this man was nothing like what Xie Youran preferred in appearance — he was short and somewhat stout, and compared to the young master of the Wang Family whom Xie Youran had once looked down upon, he resembled a toad even more.

Xie Youran naturally refused to consent, but Xie Sheng declared that this match was already more than she deserved.

After all, her body had been damaged and bearing children would be difficult for her — who among those who knew the full story in the capital would be willing to have her? Though this man was somewhat older, he already had sons and daughters; his eldest son had already earned a scholarly title and showed great promise for the future.

Setting aside his age and appearance, in what way was he inferior to that completely worthless Zhou Sui’an?

Most importantly, Master Shang’s parents were both deceased, so Xie Youran, if she married into his household, would not have to suffer under a mother-in-law.

Xie Youran had endured more than her share of hardship at the Zhou household. She had never imagined that the match she had schemed so hard to steal from Chu Linlang would turn out to be so wretched — nor had she imagined she would end up in the same predicament as Chu Linlang herself, unable to bear children again.

Having suffered the grief of losing a daughter and endured endless quarrels with Zhao Shi, Xie Youran finally listened to her father this time. She nodded her agreement and consented to marry far away to Zhe City.

Yet with the prospect of marrying a man nearly old enough to be her father, Xie Youran felt not a spark of joy. She shut herself indoors all day, simply waiting for the day, still some time away, when she would have to leave the capital.

Chu Linlang listened as the Sixth Prince’s Consort talked around the subject in circles, and of course understood the intention behind her overtures.

She smiled and said to the Sixth Prince’s Consort: “When the second young miss is wed, Situ and I will naturally prepare a gift for her. Whatever success Situ has achieved in fulfilling his long-held ambitions, it owes a great deal to the Sixth Prince’s patronage in those early days. He often tells me that though the Sixth Prince was his student, His Highness’s broad-mindedness and seemingly simple but profoundly wise temperament have in fact benefited him enormously. As for the grievances between myself and the second young miss of the Xie family — those were stirred up by a man whose resolve was weak and who abandoned integrity for personal gain. Those disputes are things I have long since forgotten. Besides, if not for all those upheavals, I and Situ would have had no fate together in this lifetime. Would you not say that is the workings of destiny? You ought also to counsel the second young miss to learn to let go. In this world, to be born a woman is already beset with a thousand difficulties. To cling to old grievances from years gone by is to carry a burden forward — nothing could be less worthwhile.”

This speech of hers, though ostensibly offering comfort to both the Sixth Prince’s Consort and the second young miss of the Xie family, was in fact a tactful way of conveying to the Sixth Prince’s Consort that even having risen to prominence, she harbored no old resentments and had no intention of making trouble for the Xie family.

These were Chu Linlang’s sincere feelings.

Though the Third Prince was about to ascend to the supreme throne, a new emperor’s accession was itself a great trial — a process of accommodation between the new ruler and all the officials at court. As a newly prominent and powerful minister, Situ Sheng’s dealings with the older generation of officials were a particular challenge.

As Situ Sheng’s wife, she had no desire to use her husband’s influence to go about making enemies on all sides. As for the likes of Xie Youran, Linlang felt she had already moved far too far ahead to bother turning back to look.

Her words allowed the Sixth Prince’s Consort to breathe a quiet sigh of relief.

This Chu Linlang’s character was still as frank and direct as ever. Even now that she had become the wife of a high official, she showed not a trace of the petty triumphalism of someone who had gotten above themselves — that quality alone was enough to earn a person’s private admiration.

The next part of the itinerary was to inspect the Buddhist prayer ceremony soon to be conducted, and to admire the golden Buddha statue that had been moved into the imperial temple. The great gilded image, carved by the hands of a master craftsman, truly inspired awe in all who beheld it.

Chu Linlang followed the guidance of the temple monks and gazed at it attentively for a while.

But then the nausea that had not troubled her for some time suddenly surged up again without warning.

Before she could even speak, supported by her maidservant, she clapped a hand over her mouth and rushed outside the Buddha Hall, retching for quite some time.

When she raised her head again, she saw Tao Zan standing in a corner of the side hall, gazing at her with an expression of some unease and uncertainty…

Situ Sheng did not acknowledge this half-brother of his, born of a different mother.

Linlang, too, ought properly to have kept her distance. But Dongxue, who was pouring tea at Linlang’s side, was surprised to notice that Linlang’s face wore a smile as she walked toward Tao Zan — who had already turned and was preparing to leave.

“Master Tao, the temple official! It has been a long time!”

Tao Zan turned in confusion, staring at Chu Linlang, at a loss for what to say.

The young man had spent recent days in a daze, as though the sky itself had collapsed around him.

He had only just learned that he had an elder brother still living in this world — and that the woman he had once secretly admired had become that elder brother’s wife.

What Tao Zan had never expected was that his mother had managed to marry into the Yang Family by dishonorable means. And it was precisely because of this that his elder brother refused to acknowledge him.

What’s more, the mother he depended on utterly had been cast aside by His Majesty and imprisoned in a convent. He had gone everywhere seeking help, only to meet with refusal at every turn — even his own maternal grandfather would not receive him.

The sheltered world that Tao Huiru had so carefully constructed for her son had crumbled without warning, and Tao Zan, caught completely unprepared, had been battered by the first great storm of his life and was left bewildered and adrift.

Though he still held his post as a temple official, he found himself shunned and marginalized on all sides, so on a day like this, he had not come forward.

He had never expected that his elder sister-in-law, Chu Linlang, would suddenly walk over and greet him with a smile.

His instinct was to exchange a few words and then take his leave as quickly as possible. But Linlang could see his intention, and swiftly moved to block his path, saying with a meaningful tone: “I have always held you in esteem, Master Tao. The kindness you once showed me when you, without a second thought about my modest learning, helped me draft a letter home — I have never forgotten it. The grudges and grievances between our parents’ generation have nothing to do with the younger generation. No matter what, you are Situ’s younger brother. Even if he appears not to acknowledge you on the surface, you are still in his heart. I only hope that Master Tao will not, on account of the Wandering Cloud Hermit, harbor resentment toward Situ.”

This goodwill-extending speech of hers made Tao Zan feel like a lost chick that had just found its mother hen, nearly wanting to flutter his little wings and fling himself into his elder sister-in-law’s arms in search of comfort.

He did not dare act so presumptuously, but could only weep as he choked out: “I…how could I blame my elder brother? It is only that all of this descended so suddenly, it is somewhat difficult to bear…”

Linlang glanced around and saw that no one else was nearby, then said gently: “Come, let us go and sit in the tea room over there. There is much I would like to talk with you about, Master Tao…”

—

The front mountain of the imperial temple’s gate was a constant stream of carriages and people, a scene entirely at odds with the still quiet of the rear mountain’s restricted temple.

Due to the terrain of the rear mountain, climbing to the cliffside above the restricted temple allowed one to take in the full bustle of the front mountain’s imperial temple at a glance.

Tao Huiru had been coerced and made to stand at this cliff edge for quite some time now.

She cast a glance at the several black-clad men who had her in their grip, then looked again at the tall man standing before her, gazing into the distance, and let out a cold laugh: “You dare enter the capital again? Do you not know that your eldest son hates you to the bone? If he were to learn you were here, he would be driven to kill you and only then be satisfied?”

At her words, Yang Yi turned slowly, and the eyes he fixed on Tao Huiru were filled with a hatred-soaked contempt.

He had only recently learned what role Tao Huiru had played in the defeat and ruin of the Yang Family all those years ago.

Nothing more than a quarrel between husband and wife — yet she had used the Yang Family itself to exact her revenge.

Why had he ever been bewitched, falling into this poisonous woman’s scheme? One wrong step had led to another and another. It had resulted in Wen Shi being driven to madness through persecution, his father dying in battle, and ultimately the Yang Family being condemned to execution — the entire household wiped out.

And now, with the Kingdom of Jing suffering one setback after another, Yang Yi’s situation within Jing had grown precarious. And his current wife — who somehow had found out that he had been keeping his first wife nearby all this time — had flown into a furious rage, and the two had broken irrevocably.

Yang Yi did not care. He had married that princess under duress in the first place. A man whose heart was consumed with hatred — how could he ever surrender to the tender comforts of love?

So he simply left the Kingdom of Jing, and with the retinue of devoted soldiers he had cultivated over the years, traveled to the capital of the Great Jin Dynasty.

There was no time to lose — an opportunity such as this, he had been waiting for it for a very long time.

Let all debts of hatred and entanglement be settled today, all at once!

So even though Tao Huiru cursed and railed at him loudly, Yang Yi remained unmoved, watching as the crowd at the imperial temple slowly dispersed and the many carriages turned to depart — until only the carriages of the Crown Prince, the Sixth Prince, and a few other princes had yet to leave.

Because of His Majesty’s grave illness, all the princes, wishing to fulfill their filial duty, were to keep a nightlong vigil by the golden Buddha to pray for His Majesty’s recovery.

This was precisely the opportunity Yang Yi had been waiting for. His gaze was fixed unwaveringly on the imperial temple, watching the faint and indistinct flickering of its dim lamps.

When the evening bell that marked the hour rang out again, the imperial temple suddenly erupted with a thunderous, earth-shaking roar. Billowing clouds of dust rose from the direction of the temple and flames shot toward the heavens, as though ten thousand fireworks had detonated all at once.

Tao Huiru was caught completely off guard and stumbled to the ground. She stared blankly at the sky-reaching flames above the imperial temple — and then, a moment later, let out a shriek like a wounded mother wolf: “Zan’er! My Zan’er must be on duty at the imperial temple! You… what have you done!”

After being forced to stand at this cliff edge and watch for so long, if she still could not understand that Yang Yi’s hand was behind this, she would have to be truly simple-minded.

Yang Yi knew that the princes keeping their nightwatch inside the imperial temple had by now been blown to pieces.

Among those princes was also the son most dearly beloved by that wretched emperor…

Before long, news of the princes dying together would be transmitted to the palace.

A white-haired parent sending off a black-haired child — how utterly heart-shattering that would be.

He wanted that wretched emperor to understand what it truly felt like to have one’s family destroyed, one’s home shattered, left alone in the world.

To kill a person, one must first kill their spirit! This was far more satisfying than killing that wretched emperor with his own hands!

At this thought, Yang Yi could not restrain himself and burst into laughter toward the heavens — laughing until tears rolled down his weathered, frost-touched cheeks.

“What have I done? I did nothing more than use you as a threat, persuading that boy to draw out the layout of the imperial temple’s defenses, and then secretly opening the gates to let my men in. Nothing more than that. As for the belly of that new Buddha — I had it filled with sulfur sky-burst bombs specially crafted to my commission. How about it? Impressive force, would you not say? Ha ha ha…”

Tao Huiru’s heart was at that moment entirely with her son, and she was nearly mad with terror: “Then… did you tell Zan’er to avoid duty tonight and leave the imperial temple early?”

Yang Yi’s expression was cold and distant: “He is a temple official. With all the princes present, if he were to leave on some pretext, would that not arouse suspicion? He is a son of the Yang Family too. To sacrifice his life for the deep, blood-soaked grievance of the entire Yang household — what of it? After all, is it not because of you, this wretched woman, that the Yang Family’s wrongs came about? For him to pay his mother’s debt with his life is entirely fitting!”

Though Yang Yi had in fact told Tao Zan that at the hour of midnight he was to find an excuse to use the privy and avoid the main hall — he had no intention of informing this poisonous woman of any of that. Watching her writhe in unbearable anguish was the truly satisfying part.

Tao Huiru, believing Yang Yi truly had been so ruthless as to sacrifice Zan’er to complete his revenge, was so consumed by hatred that her teeth nearly drew blood: “Yang Yi, you beast without even a beast’s conscience! If you truly wanted revenge, setting the blaze in daylight would have done far more damage to the Great Jin’s capable ministers and loyal generals! But no — you chose otherwise. Is it not simply so that Situ Sheng, that bastard of yours, could leave the temple in time? In your eyes, is only that madwoman’s child your true son? Is Zan’er not your child too?”

Her words were not yet finished when Yang Yi reached out and struck her hard across the face: “Silence! You are in no position to speak of her! On the day of Jiexing’s wedding, I watched with my own eyes, right there at the gate, as you shamelessly knelt to beg for a noble title. She was such a gentle and mild person — why would she suddenly go mad? Do you truly not know in your own heart what you did to her back then?”

If Yang Yi had once been too inattentive to matters of the inner household, entirely oblivious to Wen Shi’s grievances, then on that day — with Chu Linlang standing at the gate in her wedding garments — she had laid out in clear and methodical detail the sordid conduct of the Tao woman all those years ago.

Wen Shi had been so timid and docile, gentle as a rabbit — to what extremity had she been driven before she broke?

Thinking this, Yang Yi slowly drew his blade — he had deceived his son Tao Zan, and even though Tao Zan had helped him blow up the imperial temple, he had no intention of helping his son rescue his mother.

This poisonous woman had to die.

Tao Huiru could not fail to see his intent, but she had already thrown all caution aside — she let out a vicious laugh of utter abandon, then spat with full force directly into his face: “The Yang Family’s entire household being put to the sword — what does that have to do with me? If you had acted like a man of blood and mettle when you were captured, died for your country rather than scheming to cling to life, how would you have brought down the catastrophe of annihilation on the Yang Family? Is it not that you resorted to your old tricks, seducing the Jing Kingdom’s princess with your charms, surviving in that pathetic fashion? What of it — by shifting the blame onto me, do you become clean? The one who most deserves to die is yourself! You, who are lacking in loyalty and filial piety — unfit to be called a husband or a father! You had already given me your pledge of marriage, yet you turned around and married that wretch Wen Shi. After marrying her, you neither cared for her nor attended to her — you only despised her for being overly sentimental. Then later, after marrying me, you decided Wen Shi was gentle and sweet, and kept her as a mistress on the side… Pfah! I was blind all my life to have clung to you in this pit of hellfire! Our mother and son — our whole lives have been ruined by you!”

She screamed with a distorted, ferocious expression. And with the added weight of her mistaken belief that her son was already gone from this world — what reason did she have left to care for anything in it?

Half a lifetime as a living widow, and now the grief of losing a child — all at the hands of the man before her…

Tao Huiru no longer had any will to live, but before she died, she was determined to drag this man down to hell with her.

Every word she spoke struck directly at Yang Yi’s most vulnerable wounds. He could bear it no longer — he raised his blade and thrust it into Tao Huiru’s abdomen.

Tao Huiru did not dodge. Instead, as though welcoming it, she spread open her arms and threw herself against Yang Yi, seizing hold of him.

Even as agonizing pain erupted in her abdomen, she drove the paper-cutting knife she had concealed in her sleeve with all her force into Yang Yi’s back.

That thrust used every last bit of her strength — just as her entire life had been: hurling herself into flames like a moth, headlong and relentless to the very end.

Yang Yi let out a great cry and used all his remaining strength to shove Tao Huiru away.

Tao Huiru’s abdomen had been pierced through; fresh blood dripped from the tip of the blade that had penetrated clean through her. Her face convulsed. She collapsed to the ground. With fading breath she called out twice — “Zan’er, your mother is sorry to you…” — and then, with tears of unresigned grief and blood welling up from her stomach pouring from her mouth, she finally lay still, her eyes open, and departed from the world of dust.

Yang Yi’s back had been wounded, and supported by his subordinates, he sat heavily down on a nearby stone.

Though his injury was severe, the blaze rising from the front mountain was so gratifying to his heart.

Yet thinking that this Third Prince was the adopted son of his old friend Liao Zhongchang — a son Liao Zhongchang had loved as dearly as flesh and blood — Yang Yi murmured quietly: “Zhongchang, do not fault me for this. Who told him to be that wretched emperor’s own flesh and blood.”

Having said this, he made to rise and descend the mountain.

But what he could never have anticipated was that from behind him, a clear and spirited male voice rang out: “Master Liao will not fault you — because in his heart, you are no longer fit to be called a human being.”

Yang Yi spun around in astonishment, and saw the Third Prince — who should by all rights have perished in the conflagration — standing in the distance on a small hillside, together with Situ Sheng and their company of men.

—