“She is the woman the Emperor truly loves! If you want to kill someone, kill her!” The Imperial Noble Consort shouted, pointing at the deposed Empress who was curled up on the ground, covered in blood and gore.
“Sacrifice the Empress to the Flag!”
“Sacrifice the Empress to the Flag!”
The vast, surging army below raised their icy weapons, letting out earth-shattering roars, waves of sound threatening to tear the sky apart.
In the crowd, the leading general, clad in blood-stained black armor, his face hidden in the shadow of his helmet, revealed only a cold, curved line. His thin lips parted, his voice utterly devoid of warmth.
“Zhao Qihuang, if you must blame someone, blame your Fate.”
The moment he finished speaking, a sharp, poisoned feathered arrow—a Piercing Arrow—tore through the air, carrying the murderous aura of a thousand troops, shooting straight toward the deposed Empress’s chest. Following it was a deluge of arrows from the soldiers.
Agony, heart-rending pain.
“Ah—!”
Zhao Qihuang bolted upright on the brocade couch.
She gasped for air, her chest heaving violently.
Cold sweat streamed down her forehead and neck, soaking her soft sleeping robes.
“Commandery Princess, what’s wrong?”
Xiao Hong, the head maid waiting by the couch, was startled. She quickly leaned in to wipe the sweat from her mistress’s brow, her voice filled with concern.
Zhao Qihuang’s face was chalk white. Subconsciously, she lowered her head, clutching her chest tightly with both hands.
It was completely unharmed.
She let out a long sigh of relief, her voice hoarse with the relief of having escaped death.
“I had a nightmare.”
She asked Xiao Hong, “What time is it now?”
Xiao Hong quickly replied, “It’s just past the Wei Hour. You’ve been asleep for less than an hour.”
“Only an hour?”
A flash of surprise crossed Zhao Qihuang’s eyes. That dream felt as though an entire lifetime had passed.
Just now, she had dreamed that the all-powerful Duke of Zhenguo’s Estate was raided and stripped of its titles. Immediately afterward, the Emperor died, and the Crown Prince, Li Mingxiao, successfully ascended the throne.
Because of her Fate, which was linked to her aunt, the Empress Dowager, a decree had married her off to the new Emperor, naming her the new Empress. A crimson wedding sedan chair, ten miles of scarlet dowry—it was a glorious beginning envied by every noblewoman in the capital.
The Zhao Qihuang in the dream had been full of hope.
However, on the day of the grand wedding, the new Emperor never set foot in her Fengyi Palace. Instead, the very next day, he married her stepsister, Zhao Qiyun, instantly naming her the Imperial Noble Consort, a rank equal to a secondary Empress.
She, the legitimate Empress, was imprisoned in Qingning Palace, ostensibly for ‘quiet recuperation,’ but in reality, no different from a common prisoner. In the dream, she possessed the empty title of Empress but held no palace authority, living more basely than an ant.
Zhao Qiyun brought her servants daily to ‘pay respects,’ subjecting her to every possible humiliation and torture.
Just as she was being tormented to the brink of collapse and losing her mind, the Fourth Prince rebelled and marched his troops to the city gates.
Li Mingxiao fled in panic with his confidantes, abandoning the imperial concubines as if they were worn-out shoes. The Fourth Prince took control of the Imperial City and demanded that the woman Li Mingxiao loved most be used for the Sacrifice to the Flag to boost morale.
To save her own life, Zhao Qiyun ordered the guards Li Mingxiao had left her to deliver Zhao Qihuang to the rebel camp. After ten years of marriage, this was the only moment she became, in name, the woman Li Mingxiao loved most.
No matter how she argued or recounted the misery she had endured in the inner palace over the years, no one listened. Before that vast, dark mass of soldiers, a single Piercing Arrow ended her miserable nightmare.
Zhao Qihuang raised a hand, wiped the cold sweat from her brow, and let out a long, shaky breath. This dream was truly too vivid, yet too false. She closed her eyes, a nearly inaudible chuckle escaping her lips.
The Duke of Zhenguo’s Estate was deeply rooted and immensely powerful. How could it possibly be raided? It was utterly preposterous.
Zhao Qihuang was still shaken. She rubbed her temples, which still throbbed faintly.
“Nonsense. Utter nonsense…”
Seeing her distress, Xiao Hong quickly brought over a cup of tea.
“Commandery Princess, please drink some water.”
Just then, hurried footsteps sounded outside the door. “Commandery Princess! Something terrible has happened!” The maid Xiao Cheng practically tumbled into the room, her face showing alarm mixed with a trace of barely suppressed excitement.
Zhao Qihuang frowned at her reckless behavior.
“Why are you shouting? Has the sky fallen?”
Xiao Cheng panted, speaking breathlessly, “Commandery Princess! Something happened at the Duke of Zhenguo’s Estate!”
Zhao Qihuang’s hand, which was reaching for the teacup, paused slightly. Her eyelid twitched.
“What could possibly happen to the Duke of Zhenguo’s Estate? Did Wei Lanzhou, that smiling tiger, finally get his comeuppance and drop dead?”
Her tone was sharp; this was their usual mode of interaction.
Xiao Cheng shook her head. “No, it’s worse than that—the Duke of Zhenguo’s Estate has been raided and confiscated.”
The teacup in Zhao Qihuang’s hand clattered to the floor, shattering into countless pieces.
The Duke of Zhenguo’s Estate… it really was raided.
Xiao Cheng failed to notice her mistress’s strange reaction. She blinked, confused, and asked, “Commandery Princess, what’s wrong? That Wei Shizi always annoyed you. Now that the Duke of Zhenguo’s Estate has met with disaster, shouldn’t you be happy?”
Zhao Qihuang was utterly flustered.
Happy? Happy, my foot!
If the dream was real, then the next step was her being pushed onto that damned Empress throne, followed by imprisonment by the Crown Prince, torture by Zhao Qiyun, and finally, death by ten thousand arrows?!
Zhao Qihuang hurriedly pulled on her clothes, rushing, “Prepare the horses! We’re going to the Duke of Zhenguo’s Estate.” She had to confirm it with her own eyes.
Xiao Cheng, assuming her mistress was going to gloat over their misfortune, excitedly yelled outside, “Someone! Prepare the horses! The Commandery Princess is going out to watch the spectacle!”
Zhao Qihuang, her clothes not even fully straightened, grabbed her skirt and rushed out.
“Commandery Princess, slow down! They won’t finish raiding the Duke of Zhenguo’s Estate anytime soon—” Xiao Hong cried out anxiously from behind, hurrying to follow her.
Zhao Qihuang paid no mind to propriety or composure now; she stumbled along the road, desperately rushing toward the Duke of Zhenguo’s Estate, her heart burning with anxiety.
In less than the time it takes an incense stick to burn, the grand, vermillion-lacquered, gold-inlaid gates of the Duke of Zhenguo’s Estate were visible in the distance. The gates stood wide open.
Instead of the usual sharp-witted estate guards, the entrance was lined with rows of officers in official uniforms, long sabers at their waists. Their expressions were cold and severe, surrounding the entire Duke’s Estate and blocking it off completely.
Occasionally, commoners attempting to peek closer were unceremoniously driven away.
Zhao Qihuang’s heart sank, bit by bit. She walked forward unsteadily, and from a distance, saw officers carrying out boxes of items affixed with official seals.
Gold and silver vessels, jade artifacts, antiques, paintings, silks and satins… These treasures, once symbols of the Duke of Zhenguo’s immense power, were now being crudely piled up on the open ground in front of the gates.
Faintly, she could hear the weeping of the female residents echoing from inside the estate, mixed with the impatient shouts of the officers.
“By imperial decree! All assets are to be confiscated!”
“Unrelated personnel, step back immediately!”
The cold, merciless voices were like a sharp knife twisting cruelly in Zhao Qihuang’s heart. She stumbled, nearly falling, but Xiao Hong, who had just caught up, managed to steady her.
“Commandery Princess, what is wrong?” Xiao Hong asked worriedly.
Zhao Qihuang’s lips were bloodless. She stared intently at the Duke’s Estate gates.
It was over.
Only those two words remained in her mind. Everything in the dream had actually come true.