Chu Qirui’s face was as pale as paper.
He wanted to say something, but his lips trembled, and he couldn’t utter a single word.
Wen Lingrao took another step toward him. This step forced Chu Qirui to retreat until he bumped into a chair, nearly falling over.
“Go back and tell your mother: there is no way I will accept this divorce letter. You want to divorce me? Fine. Bring forth real, irrefutable evidence, report me to the government, and let my father know exactly what kind of treatment his daughter has been enduring in your Changning Marquis’s estate.”
She paused and smiled. “By the way, aren’t you keeping a mistress outside? Is she not already pregnant? Would you like me to help you spread the word?”
Chu Qirui’s face was no longer white; it was now a sickly shade of green.
Wen Lingrao turned, walked back to her seat, sat down, picked up the cup of tea that had already gone cold, and took a sip.
“The Heir may take his leave. I will not see you out.”
She did not even spare him a glance.
Chu Qirui stood there, his complexion cycling between green and white, his chest heaving violently.
This woman was completely different from the Wen Lingrao he knew.
The old Wen Lingrao was timid and compliant, never daring to speak loudly.
But this one seemed like a different person entirely, radiating a fierce, relentless edge.
…
In the main courtyard of the Changning Marquis’s estate, chaos had broken out.
Wen Lingrao stood in the center of the courtyard, surrounded by a few maids and matrons, with Chu Qirui opposite her.
The previously tumultuous scene suddenly fell silent as everyone looked toward the direction of the floral gate.
Footsteps sounded from outside, and immediately afterward, a shrill voice rang out: “The Imperial Decree has arrived—”
At this shout, the complexions of everyone in the courtyard changed in unison.
Chu Qirui’s eyes lit up as if he had seen a savior, and he scrambled toward the floral gate, crawling on his hands and knees to greet the messenger.
Wen Lingrao stood still, merely narrowing her eyes slightly.
A person emerged from the floral gate.
The man was about fifty years old, dressed in a dark blue eunuch’s uniform, holding a scroll of bright yellow silk. He wore a smile, but it was an ominous, sinister expression that made people uncomfortable.
Behind him followed over a dozen Embroidered Uniform Guards (Jinyiwei) clad in flying-fish robes, each with a Xiu Chun saber at their waist, surging into the courtyard with an aggressive, imposing air.
Chu Qirui rushed up, flopped onto his knees before the eunuch, and hugged his leg, wailing, “Eunuch Feng! Eunuch Feng, you’ve finally come! You must act on my behalf! This poisonous woman is trying to kill me!”
Eunuch Feng looked down at him, smiled, and kicked him away. “What is the Heir doing? Get up and speak.”
Chu Qirui, undeterred by the kick, stayed on his knees and continued to cry, “Eunuch Feng, you don’t know—this poisonous woman almost beat me to death just now! Look at my face, look!”
Eunuch Feng did not look at him; his eyes swept across the courtyard and finally settled on Wen Lingrao.
Wen Lingrao stood there, expressionless, staring straight at him.
Eunuch Feng sized her up, the smile on his face deepening. He raised the silk scroll in his hand and said in a sharp voice, “Wen Lingrao, receive the decree—”
The people in the courtyard knelt down in a flurry.
Chu Qirui was kneeling, and the servants were kneeling; only Wen Lingrao remained standing.
Eunuch Feng’s eyes narrowed, his voice turning cold: “Wen Lingrao, you do not kneel upon seeing the Imperial Decree. Are you attempting to defy it?”
Wen Lingrao felt an invisible pressure bearing down on her, as if a giant hand were pressing on her shoulders, forcing her to kneel. Her knees bent, but she quickly stood upright again.
She looked at Eunuch Feng and spoke: “Eunuch Feng, is what you hold in your hand an Imperial Decree?”
Eunuch Feng was stunned, then laughed: “Of course what I hold is an Imperial Decree. Wen Lingrao, will you not kneel?”
Wen Lingrao did not move. She merely looked at him and asked again: “Then let me ask you, Eunuch: is this decree stamped with the Imperial Seal or the Empress’s Phoenix Seal?”
As soon as these words were spoken, the smile on Eunuch Feng’s face stiffened.
Chu Qirui, kneeling on the ground, looked up at Eunuch Feng and then at Wen Lingrao, feeling a sudden pang of panic.
Eunuch Feng looked at Wen Lingrao, his smile slowly fading. He was silent for a moment before saying: “Wen Lingrao, I have come today to convey a verbal edict from Noble Consort Xi.”
Wen Lingrao smiled.
The smile was faint, but it was piercing to Eunuch Feng’s eyes.
“A verbal edict,” Wen Lingrao nodded. “So, it is only a verbal edict.”
As she spoke, she took two steps forward, looking down from her position at the people kneeling on the ground, before finally fixing her gaze on Eunuch Feng: “Eunuch Feng, let me ask you: do I need to kneel for a Noble Consort’s verbal edict?”
Eunuch Feng’s expression shifted.
Without waiting for him to speak, Wen Lingrao continued on her own: “I am the only daughter of the Great General of the Wei Kingdom, the daughter of a Princess, and the cousin of the Emperor. What flows through me is the blood of the Duke of Wei and the blood of the Imperial family. What is a Noble Consort? She is a concubine.”
She said this with a slight upturn of her lips: “A concubine’s verbal edict demands I kneel? Is she even worthy?”
These words were severe.
The people in the courtyard gasped, and those kneeling on the ground were so frightened that their faces turned deathly pale.
Chu Qirui was trembling as he knelt, unsure if it was from anger or fear.
Eunuch Feng’s expression darkened completely.
He looked at Wen Lingrao, a glimmer of murderous intent flashing in his eyes.
“Wen Lingrao,” he said, enunciating every word, “you have immense audacity.”
Wen Lingrao looked at him and smiled: “My audacity has always been immense.”
Eunuch Feng sneered and tucked the silk scroll away. He looked at Wen Lingrao and suddenly commanded, “Men.”
The Embroidered Uniform Guards behind him took a uniform step forward.
Eunuch Feng pointed at Wen Lingrao, his voice cold and sinister: “This woman insults a Noble Consort and holds the imperial palace in contempt. Take her for me. If she dares to resist, kill her on the spot.”
“Yes!” the guards replied in unison, drawing their Xiu Chun sabers and closing in on Wen Lingrao.
Chu Qirui, kneeling on the ground, watched this scene and nearly laughed out loud.
He quickly lowered his head, fearing someone would see the smile on his face.
Kill her, kill her. Once this poisonous woman is dead, he would finally have peace.
The guards drew closer, their blades glinting with a cold light in the sun.
Wen Lingrao stood her ground, merely watching them.
Just then, a voice suddenly echoed in her mind.
【Ding—detected that the host is facing a life-or-death crisis. A hidden task has been triggered.】
【Task Content: Survive the attack of the Embroidered Uniform Guards.】
【Task Options: A. Surrender and accept the consequences; B. Rise up and fight, carving a path of blood.】
【Please choose, Host.】
The corners of Wen Lingrao’s mouth curled up slightly.
Was there even a need to choose?
“I choose B.”
【Ding—Host has chosen to fight back. System Reward: One-time Summoning Card (Infantry Low-Tier). Upon use, you may summon eighteen elite infantrymen for the duration of one incense stick. Would you like to use it now?】
“Use it.”
As soon as the thought crossed Wen Lingrao’s mind, a gust of wind suddenly swept through the courtyard.
The wind came out of nowhere, making everyone present break out in goosebumps.
Eunuch Feng was stunned.
The Embroidered Uniform Guards were stunned as well.
At that moment, eighteen figures appeared out of thin air in the courtyard.
They wore black armor and held long blades in their hands, their faces covered by masks, concealing their features.
Yet, the aura of slaughter emanating from them was so intense that it left everyone struggling to breathe.
Eunuch Feng’s eyes widened, his lips trembling: “This… what is this…”