Feng Zhao slapping Consort Wen in the mourning hall and even stepping on her face spread quickly through the entire palace.
Everyone was talking about it, thinking Feng Zhao had gone mad.
“She actually dared to hit Consort Wen?”
“The Empress is probably finished now. The Wen family will never let her go!”
But Feng Zhao, who was supposedly “doomed,” had already left the mourning hall and was heading toward the palace in her memory—Fengming Palace. Only then did she notice her son wasn’t following.
“What are you standing there for?”
Her five-year-old “cheap son” had a chubby, bun-like face and round, bright eyes. He looked like a cute little boy—soft and pinchable like a steamed bun. But instead of that liveliness, he kept his head down, shoulders hunched, too timid to look people in the eye.
“Mother… didn’t you say we should stay away from Consort Wen to stay safe? Why are you acting like this today…?” Xiao Hongyi couldn’t find the right words. His mother today felt completely different.
Feng Zhao noticed how even speaking to her required courage from him.
It seemed the original owner had been timid, and had even raised her son to fear trouble.
But who was Feng Zhao?
She didn’t cause trouble—but she wasn’t afraid of it either. If someone bullied her, did they expect her to swallow it?
Dream on.
After thinking for a moment, she gave him a “reasonable” explanation.
“People don’t offend me unless I offend them. Today Consort Wen tried to kill us—of course I didn’t need to be polite.”
Xiao Hongyi didn’t really understand. The shadow of Consort Wen and his mother’s past teachings were deeply rooted in him.
Feng Zhao had no choice but to rephrase it. At least she had to explain why she was so different today.
She patiently said, “Think about it. If we don’t fight back, you’ll lose your throne. You might not care about becoming emperor, but if you give up your chance, the First Prince will take the throne. The first thing he’ll do is eliminate me—the Empress Dowager—and you, the legitimate son who threatens his position. Do you want to die?”
Xiao Hongyi shook his head immediately.
“I don’t want to die!”
No one wanted to die.
Feng Zhao nodded. “Exactly. So we can’t act like before. We can’t give up what belongs to us anymore.”
Although Xiao Hongyi was still afraid deep down, he no longer objected.
That was a good sign. Feng Zhao didn’t push him further—slowly would do it. Even if he was only her nominal son, he wouldn’t be bad.
“To prevent Consort Wen from targeting you, you’ll stay in my palace tonight.”
Without waiting for his agreement, she pulled him toward Fengming Palace and didn’t allow him to return to his own quarters.
The novel never said Xiao Hongyi would become emperor anyway.
Shortly after returning to the palace, a maid came forward.
“Your Majesty, you’re finally back! This servant was so worried!”
The maid, Fuling, poured tea for her. “Your Majesty, you were too reckless today. How could you act against Consort Wen like that? We won’t have peaceful days ahead!”
Feng Zhao had just returned from fighting and was thirsty.
She was about to drink the tea when she paused after hearing her praise Consort Wen.
Her lips stopped just before touching the cup. She raised her eyes and gave Fuling a cold glance.
Fuling felt a chill run down her spine. Something about the Empress today was different—this look was terrifying.
“Your Majesty, you must be tired. Please drink some tea and rest.”
Feng Zhao had only suspected the tea might be suspicious—but now she was almost certain it was poisoned.
She lightly tapped the teacup, then handed it back.
“Fuling, you’ve served me for a while. I’ll reward you with this tea.”
Fuling’s heart tightened. She thought Feng Zhao had discovered something—but seeing no anger on her face, she hesitated.
“Thank you for your grace, Your Majesty. But this tea is newly offered tribute from the Ministry of Internal Affairs. It’s said to beautify the skin. This servant wouldn’t dare drink something so precious.”
Feng Zhao didn’t care for her excuses.
“I order you to drink it. Or is there something in it you’re afraid of?”
“Your Majesty, how could you suspect me? I am loyal to you!” Fuling cried.
But Feng Zhao didn’t care about her tears.
“Someone! Make her drink the tea!”
If she wouldn’t drink it willingly, she’d be forced.
“Your Majesty, spare me!!” Fuling finally panicked and dropped to her knees.
Feng Zhao only asked one thing:
“Who ordered you to poison it? Consort Wen?”
Fuling didn’t dare admit it.
Feng Zhao was already considering how to force a confession. At a critical moment in the struggle for succession, this was a perfect piece of evidence delivered to her door.
Just as she was thinking, the system spoke.
【Congratulations to the host for stabilizing the heir’s position in the mourning hall. You have obtained one Truth Pill!】
A Truth Pill would force the person who took it to speak only the truth.
Feng Zhao immediately considered using it—but then paused.
“Is there a time limit?”
【Effective for one hour.】
Good thing she asked. Otherwise it would’ve been wasted. Timing mattered—this kind of “bomb” had to be used at the right moment.
Xiao Hongyi didn’t know about the system. He stared blankly at Fuling, then at Feng Zhao.
Fuling was the Empress’s personal maid and part of her dowry. She had even been the head maid of Fengming Palace—and yet she tried to poison her mistress?
Most importantly—his nominal mother actually discovered it?
How did she know?
Xiao Hongyi watched in shock as Fuling clung desperately to him like a last straw.
“Your Highness, Ninth Prince, you are kind-hearted—you won’t just watch me die, right? Please speak for me!!”
She kept kowtowing, blood already streaming from her forehead, trying every tragic method possible.
In the past, Xiao Hongyi might have been softened by this. But now, remembering Feng Zhao’s words, he only felt disgust.
He pulled his clothes back.
“You… you poisoned her. You’re not a good person. I won’t help you. Go away!”
Fuling refused to let go. Letting go meant death.
She had planned everything—using Xiao Hongyi’s kindness to save herself. Feng Zhao used to dislike him; she would scold him for interfering and ignore the matter.
But Feng Zhao today was not the same.
After he pulled his sleeve free, Feng Zhao suddenly kicked Fuling in the chest, sending her flying and coughing up blood.
“Bastard! A mere servant dares to touch a royal prince?! Someone, cut off her hands. Keep her tongue so she can still speak!”
At her command, the palace servants immediately dragged Fuling away and severed both her hands.
Blood splattered.
Xiao Hongyi clenched his sleeve tightly, his eyes not flinching away.