The New Emperor Ascends the Throne.
Yunu sprinted toward the Hall of Mental Cultivation.
Everyone was fleeing, but her princess was not among them.
The forces of the Prince of Dingnan were at their last gasp. The cavalry that had suddenly appeared in the Imperial City had caught them off guard, sealing their defeat. The remaining stragglers were merely clinging to life.
Yunu steadied her mind and paused on the rooftop, hoping to find someone to question.
But her sharp instincts, honed from numerous narrow escapes, alerted her to the figure at the palace gate.
Song Zhen, drenched in blood with an arrow piercing his chest, lay dying behind a wall. Their eyes met.
Yunu hadn’t expected Song Zhen to appear out of nowhere. The last time they met, they could still exchange a few words, but now—one was a rebel of the Jiang Dynasty, the other a lady-in-waiting to the princess—there was nothing left to say.
She prepared to leave.
The princess was still waiting for her.
But an arrow shot through the treetops, pinning her left hand to the eaves. Blood quickly dripped from her palm.
"Leaving without a single word?"
Song Zhen curled his battered lips into a smirk, tossing his bow aside with his usual arrogance.
Yunu glanced at the arrow in her hand, her gaze cold as she looked back at him. She leaped down from the eaves, crouched before him, and pulled out the arrow. "Consider this your second favor repaid by the arrow you shot."
"Why did you return? I told you not to come back," Song Zhen said, blood trickling from the corner of his smiling mouth. "Did the message not reach you?"
"If the princess and Zhinu return, I return with them."
Song Zhen leaned forward slightly, and Yunu saw the arrow that had nearly taken his life—struck directly in the heart. Pulling it out would mean instant death.
Yunu wondered what was keeping him alive, how he could cling to life with such a severe wound.
She let her guard down around this man who was already halfway to the netherworld.
Perhaps it was because, despite his dislike for her, Song Zhen had never tried to kill her. Such reasons made Yunu lower her defenses.
Seizing the opportunity, Song Zhen pulled her into his embrace.
Yunu nearly collapsed onto him, her breath catching.
Feeling her struggle, Song Zhen laughed weakly. "Haven’t you heard? A dying man’s strength is immense."
Familiar with his teasing, Yunu couldn’t help but push him away.
Song Zhen slammed against the wall, coughing up two mouthfuls of blood. Gritting through the pain, he said, "It’s my last moments, Yunu. Can we… cough… talk properly?"
Yunu glanced at his wound again. "You’re beyond saving."
Even from the rooftop, she had known he wouldn’t last another half-hour. Not even Zhinu could save him now.
But every moment sooner she left, the safer her princess would be.
Song Zhen looked at her face, a strange tenderness in his eyes. "Do you truly not know, or are you pretending to be oblivious with me?"
Yunu frowned. "What exactly do you want to say?"
"I want to say… I adore you."
Yunu’s eyes widened in disbelief.
Taking advantage of her stunned silence, Song Zhen embraced her again. His internal organs were ruptured, and a mouthful of blood welled up in his throat, which he forced back. His voice was barely a whisper: "What are you thinking? How could this noble son ever fancy a country bumpkin who’s seen nothing of the world?"
"If the noble son has seen so much of the world, why did he rebel?" Yunu didn’t push him away this time, her voice much softer. "Did you never consider the consequences?"
"The Prince of Dingnan is Emperor Wuyang's only surviving brother. I am the Prince of Dingnan's heir—his only heir. If the Crown Prince were to die of illness, and both my father and I were dead, the imperial lineage would be severed. Though Linghuai is a woman, she is the only adult royal descendant," Song Zhen continued, as if he hadn't heard her words. "Her situation is so similar to mine."
Yunu fell silent for a few seconds. "I will convey your last words to Her Highness."
Song Zhen coughed up a mouthful of blood. "There's more."
He suddenly chuckled softly. "How heartless you are."
Yunu noticed Song Zhen's body had suddenly become very heavy—deathly heavy—while his voice scattered lightly in the wind.
"I'm sorry… for hurting you."
Yunu didn't interrupt him. She had a strong premonition that these words might be Song Zhen's last in this world.
"What I said earlier… was false."
Song Zhen leaned against Yunu's shoulder and moved no more.
The wound in her palm bled profusely.
On the eve of the coronation, the vast Golden Hall stood empty except for the coiling dragon pillars. Before the dragon throne stood only one person.
"General Xie has arrived, Your Highness."
Song Huaizhang waved his hand, but the guards at his side didn't retreat. Instead, they stepped forward, forming a crescent formation to protect him at the center.
The young man walking into the hall wore tattered armor that reeked strongly of blood, as if he had been soaked in a pool of it. The unrest outside the palace had yet to subside. The flesh between his thumb and index finger was mangled, and in his arms lay Song Zhiluan, fast asleep.
"You have rendered invaluable service in suppressing the rebels, Yujin."
Song Huaizhang turned around with a clear, bright laugh. The eunuch understood his meaning and went to the entrance with medicine.
Xie Yujin avoided the eunuch's attempt to administer the medicine.
After a moment of silence, he said, "Your Highness flatters me."
Song Huaizhang nodded with satisfaction. "I knew I hadn't misjudged you, Yujin. Once I ascend the throne, you shall be my right-hand man."
Exhausted from days and nights of travel and the emotional turmoil she had endured, Song Zhiluan was deeply unsettled even in her unconscious state, clutching Xie Yujin's hand tightly.
In the empty hall, her delirious murmurs were particularly audible.
Song Huaizhang's gaze subtly swept over his sister and the arms holding her.
"Linghuai must have been frightened tonight. She should rest in the palace. Her Qiwu Palace was originally chosen for its tranquility and, as it turns out, was fortunately spared from the turmoil."
A flicker of coldness passed through Xie Yujin's eyes, but it vanished too quickly to be caught.
Song Huaizhang continued to watch him with a smile.
Contrary to his expectations, Xie Yujin didn't hesitate. "As Your Highness decides."
Song Huaizhang's smile remained unchanged. "Gao Gonggong, escort General Xie."
"As you command."
…
After Gao Gonggong had settled them in and returned to report, he said, "General Xie left as soon as he put down the Linghuai Princess, without even inquiring about summoning a physician."
Song Huaizhang had long lost his smile. He sat on the dragon throne with his eyes closed, feigning rest.
"Not a single word?"
"Indeed. Throughout all these years of marriage, the General has never seemed particularly concerned about the Princess."
Not concerned.
Song Huaizhang turned these words over in his mind, his expression darkening.
Was it indifference, or wariness?
After all, he had done everything a loving elder brother ought to do.
Song Zhiluan fell ill after leaving the palace.
As soon as she was able to rise from her sickbed, she went to the palace.
Song Huaizhang, now clad in imperial yellow robes, stood with his back to her, conversing with his ministers. Song Zhiluan didn't have to wait long before a eunuch invited her into the Hall of Mental Cultivation.
Song Huaizhang bore a striking resemblance to Song Dingyuan in stature. For a fleeting moment, Song Zhiluan seemed to see Song Dingyuan's shadow, and she felt an inexplicable chill.
Song Huaizhang remained as attentive as ever, with the palace servants bringing all her favorite dishes. However, the Hall of Mental Cultivation was now permeated with the faintly bitter scent of medicine, lingering in the air.
Song Zhiluan could wait no longer: "Imperial Brother, the promise you made to me still stands, doesn't it?"
Seeing her pale complexion, Song Huaizhang gently lifted her chin. "Your illness hasn't fully recovered yet. Why are you in such a hurry? I promised to bring our elder sister back after ascending the throne, and I meant it. You married General Xie, and with his support in court, I was able to quell the rebels and secure the throne. Even without the earlier promise, I would still fulfill your wish."
"Then when does Imperial Brother plan to bring Elder Sister back?" The tension in Song Zhiluan's lips eased unconsciously. "Winter is almost over. The snow on the roads has melted, making travel easier by carriage. Elder Sister would endure less hardship on the journey."
"Xiao Luan, you are now the Guardian Princess of the Nation. You should understand priorities," Song Huaizhang paused gravely. "The court is in disarray, and the neighboring countries are unstable. If I provoke Xi Yi at this moment, I fear complications may arise."
Though Song Zhiluan was no longer as impulsive as before, his words still plunged her into silence.
Song Huaizhang wore a guilty expression. "Wait a little longer."
Song Zhiluan took a step back, lowering her head. "How much longer must I wait?"
"I won't make you wait too long," he reassured her. "I've already ordered the construction of Princess Chaoyang's manor. Once it is completed, our elder sister should return."
Song Zhiluan looked up abruptly. "Really?"
"Really."
"Alright, I'll wait a little longer—another year or two should be enough." Her gaze drifted as she slowly exhaled, looking at Song Huaizhang. "Then, Imperial Brother, how do you plan to deal with our cousin Song Zhen?"
Song Huaizhang's eyes narrowed. "That is not for you to concern yourself with."
Song Zhiluan did not retreat. Lifting her skirts, she knelt on the ground, pleading, "Imperial Brother, Cousin is already dead, and Uncle has been punished. Given that Cousin saved both of us multiple times, at least grant him a whole body and let me give him a proper burial."
This was the first time since his ascension that Song Huaizhang had seen Song Zhiluan perform such a formal gesture of respect.
He lowered his head slightly and sighed softly. "I will consider it."
Her Imperial Brother was benevolent. Based on Song Zhiluan's understanding of him, his words carried an eighty percent likelihood of agreement.
She stood up, the knot in her heart loosening slightly, and her expression relaxed.
Soon after, the Imperial Physician entered to check her pulse. Song Zhiluan did not linger. Since the palace coup, the imperial city had been steeped in an aura of bloodshed. As she exited the Vermilion Bird Gate, Zhinu supported her and said, "Your Highness, your complexion looks better."
But something seemed different.
Zhinu thought.
The princess, dressed in a ruqun and without makeup, stepped onto the palanquin along the jade steps. Just before entering, she turned to look back at the palace grounds.
The reflection of the golden glazed tiles shimmered in her eyes, the lingering glow of the sunset settling deep within her pupils.
The last time she received a promise from Song Huaizhang, then still the Crown Prince, Song Zhiluan had rushed out of the palace in high spirits, her face radiant with joy.
This time, however, a shadow had fallen over her.
She murmured absently, "Imperial Brother would not lie to me."
Yunu gazed at the figure in the palanquin and was inexplicably reminded of Zhinu's words: "Her Highness's heart ailment has worsened. Her recovery depends on her mood—if her heart remains troubled for too long, it may trigger old illnesses. Should new and old afflictions strike together, the situation could become far more dire."
Ever since the horse hooves crossed the palace gates and Song Zhiluan fell ill, Xie Duke Manor had not seen such vitality in a long time.
With the new reign title proclaimed, Song Zhiluan personally oversaw the hanging of hexagonal lanterns and wind chimes beneath the eaves, summoning musicians and performers to the manor to pray for blessings and ward off misfortune.
The courtyard was refreshed, the air crisp, and all the crabapple trees in the manor had been pruned of old branches, revitalized. Sunlight filtered through, casting layered shadows.
Yet, for some reason, the jade dew pear tree transplanted from Princess Manor refused to bloom.
Song Zhiluan shuttled between the newly constructed Chaoyang Eldest Princess Manor and Guo Gong Fu. Each time she left, she would personally water and fertilize this pear tree, but it remained stubborn, not even sprouting a single new bud.
One day, she sought out Qionghua, the palace maid from the Imperial Garden who specialized in fruit trees. The maid accompanied her to the manor, pinched the soil, and said, "Your Highness, I fear this pear tree may not survive."
At the same moment, Song Zhiluan heard Zhinu whisper in her ear:
"Your Highness, the body of Song Zhen, the Song Shizi, has been transported outside the city and torn apart by five horses."
Before Song Zhiluan could respond, the sound of Yunu snapping a tree branch echoed—a sharp, crisp crack.
Song Zhiluan's pupils trembled. She opened her mouth and drew a sharp breath.
After a long silence, the wind sweeping through the hall lifted the strands of hair at her temples. Strangely calm, without questioning or doubting, she said quietly, "Yunu, bring my cousin's remains back."
Yunu, with her back turned, nodded.
Zhinu watched them both and hesitantly added, "Song Shizi's body has already been devoured by wild dogs."
Song Zhiluan stood frozen for a long while.
She recalled Song Zhen's face from the few peaceful moments of her childhood.
He always acted older, positioning himself as their elder despite being only a few years their senior. Though still at an age where he'd chew on grass stems, he spoke to them with the gravity of an adult.
Forced to attend school, Song Zhen daily infuriated their tutor—fighting, causing trouble, sleeping in class, anything but studying. After frequent punishments, he devised a plan, assigning tasks to his older sister, brother, and her.
For the first half of the month, his sister would copy his punishments; for the latter half, his brother would take over. As for her, Song Zhen said she was the youngest and most favored, so her duty was to find him medicinal ointments and cover for him.
People say children don't lie, but Song Zhen claimed she had always been able to spin tales with a straight face.
One New Year's Eve banquet, the young man, drunk, tugged at her hair bun and murmured wistfully, "I truly envy Huaizhang—not only does he have Heyan as an older sister, but he has you as a younger sister too. Couldn't you share one with me? You may be a bit noisy and short-tempered, but overall, you're quite well-behaved."
She pretended to stumble and stepped on his foot, making him grimace in pain.
Song Zhiluan began to tremble uncontrollably. Song Zhen, torn apart by wild dogs—the image was too visceral. Her mind flooded with visions of shredded flesh, familiar clothing… Her cousin, even in death, would probably have a smile on his face.
"Zhinu."
Though spring was approaching and the weather wasn't bitterly cold, Zhinu noticed Song Zhiluan's teeth chattering. She hurriedly fetched a cloak from inside and draped it over her shoulders, asking with concern, "Your Highness?"
"Is it by the emperor's command?" Song Zhiluan stood still as Zhinu fastened her robe, her gaze drifting into the distance. She pursed her lips. "What I mean is—was he forced by the court officials? Was he compelled to issue the order?"
Song Zhiluan's demeanor seemed unusual. Zhinu quickly replied, "It must be so."
"Then might he also be forced to change his mind and abandon the plan to fetch my sister?" Song Zhiluan voiced the thought in her heart. When news of Song Zhen reached her, the first image that surfaced in her mind was of the city outskirts, followed by one of her sister far away in the desert.
It was as if those wild dogs baring blood-stained fangs could somehow be connected to her sister too.
"That will not happen, Your Highness."
A vague sense of foreboding tightened in Song Zhiluan's chest. She drew her cloak closer and slowly exhaled the chill lingering in her lungs.