If Jiang Wan had to say, the most unpredictable person she had ever met was undoubtedly Huan Cheng. Give him an incense stick’s worth of time, and he could cycle through eight different moods.
She pursed her lips, not moving, and looked out the window, calculating how much time was left. She regretted not hitting him harder that day—she should have just put him to sleep forever.
“Ah—”
Suddenly, a pair of hands reached out and grabbed her arm. They moved so fast she couldn’t dodge in time, and she was pulled with great force, tumbling onto the bed.
Huan Cheng rolled with her in his arms, a triumphant smile on his face. “It’s getting late, Empress. Time for the wedding night.”
Jiang Wan’s face darkened. Was this damn little emperor also playing the fool? What kind of weakling had such strength?
As his cold hand touched her cheek, Jiang Wan lifted her leg, intending to kick him off the bed. But Huan Cheng seemed to have anticipated it, using his other hand to firmly press down her restless foot. “The Empress’s temperament suits me well.”
Jiang Wan forced a smile, seething inside. “Three… two…”
“Thud—”
The man who had been smug just moments ago lost all strength as she finished counting, collapsing weakly on top of her.
“Damn it, I told you not to get too excited,” Jiang Wan cursed, continuing the motion she hadn’t finished earlier and kicking him off the bed with a vengeance.
Li Dequan hurried over at the noise, his voice shrill. “Oh dear! Your Majesty! What happened? Imperial Physician! Fetch the Imperial Physician at once!”
Jiang Wan looked innocent, even frightened, as she quickly got off the bed. “Just now, I only gave him a light push. How could I have known…”
Huan Cheng was helped back onto the bed, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. His lips turned purple, sweat beaded visibly on his forehead, and his entire face turned deathly pale.
Jiang Wan was taken aback. This reaction wasn’t right. Her spell was only meant to make him faint, equivalent to falling asleep early—just to avoid the wedding night. Why did he look like he was on the verge of death?
“Was His Majesty like this when he fainted the other day?”
Li Dequan broke out in a cold sweat. “It wasn’t this severe the other day.”
Then it had nothing to do with her. Jiang Wan relaxed and sat to the side, watching the chaotic scene of palace attendants and Imperial Physicians bustling around. She yawned.
After a flurry of activity, the Imperial Physician still gave the same diagnosis: rage affecting the heart, pent-up emotions causing illness.
Tsk. Using her 1,500 years of experience, Jiang Wan thought Huan Cheng might be poisoned.
Back when she sneaked into the West Sea for a meal, she once saw a young sea demon suffering from a poison attack. It looked quite similar—purple lips, half-dead.
However, Jiang Wan’s principle since coming here was to avoid meddling in anything unrelated to Xie Changlin. So, she didn’t plan to offer any opinions.
After Huan Cheng took his medicine, Jiang Wan stood up and wandered around the hall. When she reached the entrance, she saw the two young eunuchs who had escorted her earlier. She pursed her lips. “Did the Seal Keeper have any other intentions by having you guard here?”
The two exchanged glances, lowered their heads, and remained silent.
Jiang Wan laughed in exasperation. As expected of people from the Ceremonial Directorate—they were all cut from the same cloth as Xie Changlin?
“You dare not answer when I ask?” She glared at them, puffing out her cheeks. “I’m returning to my palace now. Go back and report to the Seal Keeper. If he wants to kill or punish me, let him come find me.”
As soon as she finished speaking, a cold voice came from behind her. “How would I dare?”
Jiang Wan’s eyes instantly curved into a smile. She turned to see Xie Changlin walking toward her, his face as expressionless as ever, accompanied only by Rong Qing.
“Your Eminence, what brings you here? Have you changed your mind and come to fetch me?”
Xie Changlin glanced at the unusually fawning Jiang Wan, his steps never pausing as he walked toward the inner hall, tossing out only a single sentence, “Rong Qing, escort Her Highness back to her palace.”
Jiang Wan thought for a moment, lifted her skirt, and was just about to follow him inside when Rong Qing stopped her, “Your Highness, this servant dares to advise you not to go in.”
“I’ll just take a quick look and come right out.”
She smiled and trotted inside, but as soon as she reached the screen, warm liquid splattered onto her face. She instinctively closed her eyes, her smile vanishing.
When she opened them again, she saw a fresh corpse with its throat slit—the Imperial Physician Fang, who had been bustling around the hall just moments ago, now dead with wide, terrified eyes.
Li Dequan knelt nearby, his body trembling slightly.
Jiang Wan wiped the blood from her face with her hand and called softly, “Your Eminence.”
In Xie Changlin’s pale hand was an exquisite dagger still dripping with blood, like a beast that had just feasted, panting faintly with crimson.
His gaze toward Jiang Wan was as calm as if he were looking at a corpse, his voice devoid of emotion, “Does Your Highness no longer wish to return to her palace?”
“Imperial Physician Fang…” Jiang Wan took two steps back, her expression still relatively calm, though she avoided looking at the body on the floor. She wrinkled her nose at the scent of blood filling the air.
“A useless waste, not even clean in death, dirtying Your Highness’s face with his blood.”
“…”
Jiang Wan didn’t know what to say for a moment. After a pause, she could only manage, “Your Eminence must be busy. I shall take my leave.”
Xie Changlin responded indifferently, withdrawing his gaze and turning to look at Huan Cheng, his eyes dark and profound.
After walking a few steps, Jiang Wan saw a group of eunuchs and palace maids from Qian’an Hall filing inside in an orderly manner, their faces etched with terror.
She paused, then turned back. This time, she only peeked her head in, softening her voice as she smiled at Xie Changlin, “Your Eminence, don’t be too angry. Tomorrow, I’ll have someone make tea cakes for you.”
With that, she hurried away.
Joking aside, she had mustered her courage to offer that advice. She doubted he would listen—he might even want to kill her along with the others.
When the palace maids and eunuchs entered and saw the still-bleeding corpse on the floor, they couldn’t help but tremble. They understood all too well that they might be next.
Death was actually quite common in the palace, but in the presence of this Lord of Nine Thousand Years, it was rarely just one or two. When he was angry or in a foul mood, deaths came in batches, for he loved nothing more than admiring the sight of corpses piled high, layer upon layer.
Xie Changlin withdrew his gaze, his expressionless eyes sweeping over the kneeling figures on the floor. “Since you cannot serve the Emperor properly, you need not continue.”
Upon hearing this, the group panicked, kowtowing desperately and begging for mercy. The palace maids stifled their sobs, fearing that irritating Xie Changlin would make them the first to die.
Yet Xie Changlin was thinking of the young Empress’s words. How could he not have understood the meaning behind her plea not to be too angry? She was merely trying to save these people’s lives.
Tsk.
He felt disdain in his heart, but his mouth moved as if possessed, “Go and each receive forty lashes. Those who survive may collect their monthly wages and leave the palace. Do not remain here to offend my sight.”
“We thank the Lord of a Thousand Years for his mercy!”
Although the chances of surviving forty lashes were slim, they were not nonexistent. As long as they could endure, this was a chance to snatch a small life back from the gates of hell!
After the others withdrew as if granted a great pardon, Xie Changlin turned to Li Dequan beside him. “Useless thing.”
Li Dequan lowered his head deeply, his voice trembling. “This servant awaits punishment from the Lord of a Thousand Years.”
“After all, you’ve served me for two years—don’t let yourself regress.” Xie Changlin’s eyes were thick with malice. “I’ll spare your wretched life for now. Keep a close watch on the emperor. If it happens again, your old mother likely won’t fare too well.”
Li Dequan gritted his teeth, but he breathed a heavy sigh of relief, knocking his head firmly against the ground. “This servant thanks Your Eminence for your mercy!”
“Find someone to check if the poison has been fully cleared.”
“Yes, this servant will go at once.”
Xie Changlin wiped the dagger clean with a handkerchief, then casually tossed it onto Huan Cheng’s face. With a cold sweep of his gaze over that pale countenance, he strode away.