Yan Jingxuan’s eyes were bloodshot and filled with veins. He stared intensely at the physician, as if his gaze alone could force him to find a way to save Lin Zili’s life.
“Impossible! I order you to save him! If you fail, I will have your head!”
The physician threw himself to the ground, his forehead pressed against the floor. “Your Highness, it is not that I lack the will to save him. The poison is simply too potent and took effect too quickly. The Prince Consort’s body was already frail, and the toxins have permeated too deeply. I am truly powerless to turn back the tide.”
Yan Jingxuan slowly turned around, gazing sorrowfully at Lin Zili lying on the bed. He walked to the bedside and gently took Lin Zili’s hand. Those hands, once soft and warm, were rapidly turning icy.
Suddenly, a thought struck him, and he whipped his head back toward the physician. “I drank from that same cup! Why am I unharmed?”
The physician was startled. “Your Highness, may I take your pulse?”
Before Yan Jingxuan could answer, the physician grabbed his wrist. His expression turned to shock. “Your Highness, you have not been spared; it is simply that you are robust and possess internal energy. Your powerful meridians are slowing the spread of the poison!”
Before the physician could finish, Yan Jingxuan felt a surge of blood roiling in his chest, and he suddenly vomited a mouthful of dark blood. As he stared at the blood, he looked at Lin Zili on the bed and actually let out a joyful, hollow smile.
So, you did poison me after all. It really was you, petty and vengeful to the end. That is truly your style.
Seeing this smile, the physician felt a chill run down his spine. Has the poison rotted his brain? How could he possibly smile after being poisoned?
Cheng Wei and Zhao Ran, who had just arrived, were horrified to see Yan Jingxuan vomiting blood.
“Your Highness!”
The physician shouted, “Quick, both Generals, hold him down! Let me administer the needles!”
Cheng Wei and Zhao Ran lunged forward to restrain Yan Jingxuan. The physician did not dare delay, swiftly retrieving silver needles and pills from his kit, which he forced down the Prince’s throat.
The pill dissolved on contact, leaving Yan Jingxuan no chance to spit it out. He eventually coughed up a final mouthful of black blood and, catching only a fleeting last glance at Lin Zili, collapsed into unconsciousness.
A major event shook the capital: the Regent’s newlywed consort had died of poisoning on their wedding night. A celebration had turned into a funeral.
Although people had initially despised the fact that the Regent was marrying a man, the tragedy drew a wave of public sympathy.
Lin Zili’s funeral was exceptionally grand. A long, winding funeral procession snaked through the streets of the capital. Paper coins danced in the sky, as if composing a mournful dirge for his passing.
At the head of the procession walked Yan Jingxuan. Dressed in white mourning robes, he looked utterly desolate.
Suddenly, a violent gust of wind howled through the air, scattering the paper coins into chaos. Yan Jingxuan stumbled, his form swaying. His attendant rushed to steady him, only to be gently brushed away.
When they finally reached the burial site, the heavy coffin was lowered into the ground. Monks circled the grave, chanting scriptures for the dead. The low, melodic sounds of Sanskrit filled the air, guiding the soul toward its next life.
The coffin was gradually covered by the earth, shovel after shovel of dirt falling into the pit. Yan Jingxuan watched, motionless. His face was gaunt, his stubble unkempt, his eyes filled with broken blood vessels; he had not closed his eyes in days.
Finally, the tombstone was erected. It bore only the name of the deceased and nothing more.
Suddenly, a figure lunged from the crowd. He was intercepted just before he could reach Yan Jingxuan.
Ye Ping was held tight by the guards. He struggled violently, his eyes rimmed with madness, roaring, “I want to kill you! Why are you the one still alive? You promised you could protect him! It was you who killed him, you deserve to die!”
Yan Jingxuan looked at him blankly. A guard hesitantly asked, “Your Highness, how should we dispose of this man?”
Yan Jingxuan said quietly, “Drive him away. And give him one hundred taels of silver.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
As Ye Ping was dragged away, he continued to shriek, “Yan Jingxuan, you will meet a horrible end! You will go to hell!”
Yan Jingxuan turned, knelt on the ground, and traced the name on the tombstone. “I will fulfill your will. I will assist the Emperor faithfully and raise him to be a wise and virtuous ruler.”
“Wait for me in the afterlife, will you? When my time comes, I will come to beg for your forgiveness.”
Yan Jingxuan obsessively traced the cold stone. He had carved every stroke himself. He knew Lin Zili would never have liked the title of Prince Consort, so he had carved only his name.
After Lin Zili’s death, the court officials celebrated for a long time, but their joy was short-lived.
The officials had thought that without the eunuch faction interfering with the state, they could finally pursue their own interests. Instead, they found Yan Jingxuan to be like a god of war—merciless. He showed no tolerance for even the slightest hint of corruption, confiscating estates without a second thought. Things were even worse than when Lin Zili was in power.
When Lin Zili was around, he had at least turned a blind eye to their minor schemes. Now, the court was completely under Yan Jingxuan’s iron grip, and one could not oppose him. Speak a word of dissent, and the next moment, a blade would be at one’s throat.
He was a complete, autocratic tyrant.
The officials suffered immensely, living in constant fear. The slightest movement had them trembling with dread.
Why did they become officials in the first place? Was it truly for the sake of the people? Of course not! If there were no profits to be skimmed, what was the point of being an official?
The young Emperor, under the Regent’s tutelage, had also become cold and ruthless. Punishments that used to be mere house arrest were now handled with confiscations and executions. He left no room for anyone to maneuver.
The two of them were perpetually stone-faced, acting more like enemies than family. Every morning court was a battlefield.
When the gods fight, the commoners suffer. The officials could not stand another day of this life. They regretted it so deeply! How they longed for the days of Eunuch Lin! How foolish they had been not to cherish him!
Their guts were twisted with regret. Each morning, many officials would stare at the vacant seat beside the dragon throne and weep openly. They cursed themselves for their own blindness.
Lin Zili emerged from the memory repository and checked his earnings. His character setting score was 98, which was excellent, but the plot score was abysmal, coming in at only 77.
012 floated over and remarked, “You are lucky you were not a primary plot character, or your plot score would have been a failing grade.”
Lin Zili clicked his tongue. “I am already not a primary plot character, and you still gave me such a low score?”
012: “Passing is already a blessing. You truly focused only on your character setting and ignored the plot. Do you know you nearly killed the villain? The male protagonist was originally written as a sheep in wolf’s clothing type. Because of your meddling, Yan Jingxuan directly cultivated the protagonist into a real tiger. The love story between the male and female leads almost turned into a tragedy.”
Lin Zili felt a pang of guilt and changed the subject. “Alright, I understand. I am going to take a shower. I have to go out in a bit.”
012: “You just got back. Where are you going?”
Lin Zili’s voice drifted back from afar: “To go settle a score.”