Zhan Haoting waved a hand behind his back, signaling the shadow guard who was about to appear to retreat.
At this moment, she resembled a fugitive who had taken many lives—instinctively reacting upon waking in an unfamiliar environment.
She must have killed many people!
What exactly had she been through?
Cheng Yao gradually regained her senses, not daring to meet his unfathomable gaze. She awkwardly withdrew her hand and smoothed the wrinkled collar of his robe, forcing a laugh. “Well, I had a nightmare. In it, a villain was choking me, and I couldn’t just sit there and take it, right? So I choked him back, and, uh… heh…”
Zhan Haoting seemed to believe her explanation and didn’t press further. “Why didn’t you rest on the bed?”
“I was waiting for you to return to discuss something,” Cheng Yao said, standing up. “Did the physician say what that medicine was?”
After she returned, the physician had taken the handkerchief to study it and hadn’t given it back to her.
Had she been worrying about this all along?
Zhan Haoting’s eyes flickered. “Your soup contained a contraceptive brew, while mine held a sterilizing drug. Both are forbidden substances from the previous dynasty.”
Sterilizing?
Damn!
That Dog Emperor is ruthless!
Exiling him wasn’t enough—he even wanted to sterilize him!
And she had to suffer along with him!
In the original host’s memories, contraceptive medicines here were all extremely cold substances. Pregnant women who drank them had a ninety percent chance of miscarrying.
This was to prevent her from conceiving on their wedding night.
Fine, fine, Dog Emperor—I’ll remember today’s poisoning grudge!
Cheng Yao gritted her teeth, appearing fierce, but in Zhan Haoting’s eyes, she looked like a feisty little beast that had been provoked—fierce yet endearing.
His gaze gradually softened, though a hint of bitterness lingered in his heart.
“Today, neither of us drank the medicine. Even if I wanted to let you go, I’m afraid it’s no longer possible.”
They had consummated their marriage. The Dog Emperor, fearing she might bear his child, would surely have her silenced if she left.
Cheng Yao understood his meaning. “So, what are your plans?”
Zhan Haoting sat upright in his wheelchair, closing his eyes as if utterly exhausted. Yet, Cheng Yao sensed he was like a malevolent dragon rising from the abyss, its claws and scales gleaming with a chilling, razor-sharp light.
“Rest first. I still have some matters to attend to.”
Zhan Haoting didn’t answer her directly, turning his wheelchair to leave.
…
She slept soundly through the night.
Just before dawn, Cheng Yao quietly got up.
Zhan Haoting wasn’t there. The spot left for him was cold, likely untouched all night.
It seemed he was growing anxious too.
Without drawing attention, she entered her portable space.
Inside, a misty haze enveloped everything. The dark, fertile soil stretched as far as the eye could see, shimmering with an oily sheen. Only one mu of land was planted with the mutated spiritual seedlings she had personally cultivated.
At the center, a clear spring bubbled gently, its surface dotted with fine golden specks.
Neatly stacked around it were supplies from the Apocalypse era: compressed biscuits, antibiotics, and hotpot base.
She crouched down, dipping her fingertips into the spiritual spring. A cool, tingling sensation traveled up her veins.
The space was still here, the spiritual spring remained, and the supplies she had risked her life for during the Apocalypse were all intact—this was her trump card. She checked in daily for peace of mind.
Emerging from the space, she used Teleportation to reach Murong Chen’s treasury.
Today was the third-day bridal return visit. She had to empty his treasury first and see how Cheng Lan could still strut back home to show off.
With the support of his imperial mother in the palace and his maternal grandfather, Murong Chen had amassed countless treasures within the palace walls.
But later, he became a traitor.
Such a vile and treacherous person shouldn’t be allowed to live comfortably.
Entering the treasury, Cheng Yao was nearly blinded by the dazzling array of jewels and treasures inside.
Chests filled with gold and silver ingots, fist-sized luminous pearls, countless rare delicacies, antiques, and paintings… the entire treasury was packed to the brim.
The phrase “mountains of gold and silver” had finally materialized before her eyes.
Good heavens, had he anticipated her arrival and prepared all this just for her?
Well, well, well, since that was the case, she would gladly accept it.
Cheng Yao’s eyes curved into crescents as she waved her small hand, and all the treasures vanished into her Space.
Next to the treasury was a secret chamber, filled with weapons, as well as a dragon throne, imperial robes, and an Imperial Crown with Beads. Had Murong Chen gone mad with his desire to become Emperor?
In that case, she might as well give him a helping hand.
She moved the dragon throne to his study and conspicuously hung the imperial robes and Imperial Crown with Beads under the eaves.
Weapons were scattered everywhere, from the secret chamber all the way to outside the main gate.
Since it was still dark and everyone in the mansion was sound asleep—even the night guards and matrons were dozing off and slacking—Cheng Yao used Teleportation to vanish without a trace, leaving no one the wiser.
Mission accomplished, she slipped away, leaving no trace of her involvement.
About half an hour later, as the sky began to lighten, a guard in the mansion yawned, stretched, and shuffled lazily along his patrol route.
Suddenly, his gaze froze.
A flash of bright yellow loomed before him, as if someone was hanging there.
Suspecting he was seeing things, he rubbed his eyes and looked again. The magnificent and imposing imperial robe hung clearly under the eaves, unmistakable.
His pupils contracted sharply, and he turned and sprinted toward the house.
But before he had gone far, he panicked and ran back, jumping up in an attempt to retrieve the imperial robe.
However, the commotion he caused only drew more attention.
“Ah!”
The entire mansion erupted in uproar, and soon others discovered numerous weapons scattered about, sending everyone into a panic as they rushed around spreading the news.
Possessing weapons and imperial robes—either offense alone was a capital crime. The Second Prince was finished.
And so were they!
Murong Chen had knelt until his knees were swollen and he could barely stand the day before. Greedy and unrestrained, he had overindulged in marital affairs the previous night and had only just fallen asleep.
Now, awakened by the incessant noise and cries outside, he wearily opened his eyes.
None of the servants were in the room. He flung open the door and roared like a raging dragon, “Where is everyone?”
At that moment, the guard commander Chen Qi rushed in, his face pale with panic. “Second Prince, a disaster has struck! The mansion has been robbed, the treasury emptied, everything vanished without a trace. But weapons are scattered everywhere, and the imperial robes… the imperial robes are hanging under the eaves…”
“What!” Murong Chen felt as if struck by a thunderbolt. His mind went blank, his knees gave way, and he stumbled forward.
“Second Prince!” Chen Qi hurriedly caught him. Cheng Lan, who had overheard most of it, called out while hastily putting on her clothes, “What are you standing around for? Go report it to the authorities!”
Murong Chen’s mind exploded with clarity, and he snapped awake. “Fool! We cannot report this!”
Cheng Lan was startled and hadn’t yet recovered when he roughly shoved her aside. She staggered, nearly falling.
But his eyes held only disgust, none of the usual tenderness or pity.
“Chen Qi, seal off the entire mansion immediately. No one is to leave, or they will be executed on the spot.”
“Chen Bohai, go fetch the black box from my study.”
Murong Chen stood with his hands on his hips, panting heavily.
His face was twisted with rage, veins bulging in his neck, resembling a gambler who had lost everything. There was not a trace of the dignity or nobility befitting a prince.
Cheng Lan felt a pang of disappointment and hurt, silently rising and stepping aside.
A moment later, Chen Qi brought the black box. Murong Chen fumbled to open the lock, rummaged through it, and pulled out a bottle. “Go, give each of them half a pill.”
He shoved the bottle into Chen Qi’s hand. “Tell them to keep what happened in the manor a secret. If they come to me for the antidote every month, they’ll be fine.”
Poison?
Chen Qi’s hand trembled, nearly dropping the medicine bottle.
“Second Highness, there are over a hundred people in the manor…”