“If Emperor Wenkang is willing to stay in the countryside for the rest of his life, then let him stay. If he is not resigned to this and wants to return to the court and reveal his identity, then kill him.”
This was the path Yan Lingyi gave to Emperor Wenkang.
In her past life, he always claimed that the Empress Dowager and Yan Lingyi ruined his life, trapping him on the imperial throne in agonizing misery. In this life, Yan Lingyi would set him free. If he could truly live at ease, safely and steadily, within these Sanling Mountains, Yan Lingyi would never interfere in his life again.
However, Yan Lingyi understood Emperor Wenkang. He might enjoy romance, but deep down in his bones, he loved power even more. Sooner or later, he would return. The moment Emperor Wenkang regretted his decision and wanted to return to the imperial city to be emperor, Yan Lingyi would have Zhilan kill him.
She would make him die at the very moment he felt the deepest regret, the strongest vexation, and the most desperate desire to regain everything and return to a life of leisure.
She deliberately would not let him have it. She wanted him to experience the pain and despair of being reduced to a speck of dust, drifting and unmoored, having the life he desired within reach, only to be crushed to death by those in power, never able to stand up again.
This was the retribution Yan Lingyi bestowed upon him.
Zhilan nodded with resolute determination. “This maid is willing to die for her master.”
She was the most loyal sword in her master’s hands; whatever her master required her to do, she would accomplish.
The flickering candlelight illuminated the burning ambition hidden deep within Yan Lingyi’s eyes.
Since he was leaving, he might as well leave more thoroughly. My Emperor, the vast empire of Great Jin, you can safely leave it to me. And if you are uneasy, it does not matter; Zhilan will help you secure it.
After bidding farewell to Zhilan, Yan Lingyi began packing her old belongings, preparing to take her radish princess and leave the Sanling Mountains.
Departing from the Sanling Mountains, the journey back to Jianye took roughly fifteen hours, a little over a day.
This time, the retinue numbered over a thousand, accompanied by a hundred carriages. At the very front, the vanguard cleared the path, followed by an escort of Jinwu Guards. Right at the center of the procession moved a magnificent Dengyun Palanquin.
The Dengyun Palanquin was a specialized conveyance used by the imperial family for long-distance travel. It was exceptionally large, easily the size of a room, complete with inner and outer chambers, a bathing room, and a tea room. It required a full hundred bearers. Rather than a mere sedan chair, it was a mobile dwelling. Rows of young, robust eunuchs stood in formation beneath the palanquin, relieving each other every half hour to press forward.
If the Dengyun Palanquin traveled uninterrupted for fifteen hours, it would arrive back within the city walls of Jianye.
While the eunuchs below shook with exhaustion in their legs, the master above lived just as comfortably as in an estate, free to do whatever they pleased.
Previously, on the journey from Jianye to the Sanling Mountains, this Dengyun Palanquin had echoed with song and dance the entire way. Emperor Wenkang disliked peace and quiet, doting solely on beauties, so palace maids had danced along the route. However, the return trip to Jianye was remarkably tranquil; the master within had not summoned a single palace maid from start to finish, with only the Empress in attendance.
A few gossipy little eunuchs huddled together while carrying the palanquin to whisper among themselves, “The Empress must be keeping the Emperor tightly reined in, not allowing him to indulge in song and dance.”
Another eunuch lowered his voice even further, “Earlier, the Jinwu Guards were searching the mountains for people. Word has it that the new little beauty the Emperor found went missing, which is why the Emperor fell ill with worry.”
These fragmented whispers were scattered by the wind in an instant, while the truth remained buried beneath layers of brocade, utterly unsearchable by anyone.
Early June in Jianye, summer.
The news that Emperor Wenkang contracted a chill during his prayers at the Sanling Mountains and already set off on his return journey to the court drifted across the mountains, floating all the way back to Jianye. Passing through the city gates, it sped directly toward the imperial palace.
The eight-hundred-li express courier showed his tally, passed through the security check of the Jinwu Guards at the gate, and entered the inner palace.
The imperial palace was vast, its ground paved with neat, long flagstones. The entry path was guarded on both sides by Jinwu Guards. Once inside, one could see in the distance a towering grand hall, the Hall of Supreme Harmony where the Emperor held court. Bypassing the rear of the hall led straight to the inner chambers.
The inner palace of the Great Jin was remarkably clean, housing very few living souls.
The late emperor passed away early, and his consorts from that era had all been forced by Empress Dowager Yan to follow him in death. Those young princes who had not yet reached the age to receive fiefs succumbed to illness one after another, or vanished entirely, not a single one survived. For a long time, the inner palace resembled a vast tomb.
Later on, when Emperor Wenkang reached the age to sire heirs, Empress Dowager Yan personally selected the women for his harem.
Empress Dowager Yan employed ruthless methods, never allowing any tainted or unsavory women to enter the imperial city. At present, every single woman in Emperor Wenkang’s harem behaved with absolute obedience, none daring to stand out.
Carrying the news, the eunuch passed through the Hall of Supreme Harmony and entered the inner palace. Walking a thousand paces further, he finally arrived at the Hall of Longevity, requesting an audience with the Empress Dowager at the entrance.
Two quarters of an hour later, a palace maid escorted the eunuch into the Hall of Longevity.
Situated at the very center of the imperial city, the Hall of Longevity was deep and remote, hidden within a corridor of vermilion pillars. Having served as the Dowager’s sleeping quarters during the previous dynasty, it had gone unrenovated for over a decade. The moment one stepped inside, a faint, decaying scent could be smelled.
The older wet nurse stood waiting to serve nearby. At the very top of the front hall’s steps sat a long couch, upon which a solitary figure rested.
The person wore a deep pomegranate-red robe, her temples half-white, her frame withered and hunched. Her facial skin sagged, her gaze was slightly turbid, and she was wrapped in a heavy aura of twilight. Beneath her wide, flowing sleeves, age spots were faintly visible on her hands.
Heavy, luxurious jade jewelry weighed upon her, making it seem as though she might topple over at any moment. Yet, she relied solely on a single breath of willpower to sustain herself, refusing to fall.
It was Empress Dowager Yan, who had already passed fifty years of age.
The little eunuch prostrated himself on the ground, carefully conveying the head chamberlain’s message to the Empress Dowager.
“Reporting to the Empress Dowager, the head chamberlain states that His Majesty is unharmed.”
“It is said that His Majesty’s grave illness is related to a woman.”
“Word has it that this woman was found by His Majesty in the countryside. Because she was unwilling to submit to the Empress’s control, she fled, and has yet to be found.”
“As a result, His Majesty had a fierce quarrel with the Empress, and subsequently contracted a chill that developed into a serious illness.”
Judging by the implication conveyed by the head chamberlain’s message, it sounded as though the Emperor’s illness was entirely the Empress’s fault.
When the little eunuch finished speaking, the Empress Dowager seated upon the dragon throne showed no particular reaction. Emboldened, the little eunuch raised his eyes to steal a glance, only to see the Empress Dowager lifting her chin with an icy expression.
“Withdraw,” the wet nurse beside him instructed the little eunuch.
The little eunuch hurried away.
Meanwhile, the wet nurse cautiously tried to exonerate Yan Lingyi, murmuring, “The Empress surely acted with His Majesty’s well-being in mind.”
The Empress Dowager on the couch did not seem to care about this minor conflict between her son and daughter-in-law, asking only indifferently, “Has today’s medicine been delivered to the Hall of Clarity?”
The Hall of Clarity was the residence of Prince Qi. Because Prince Qi was gravely ill, the Empress Dowager specially designated this hall within the imperial city for his recuperation, daily ordering imperial physicians to personally brew and serve his medicinal decoctions.
To outsiders, this appeared to be a token of the Empress Dowager’s favor toward Prince Qi. However, when the trusted wet nurse heard these words, a chill ran down her spine. The coldness inside this hall felt like a serpent winding around her neck.
Hastily lowering her head, the wet nurse replied, “Today’s medicine is still being brewed. This maid will urge them to deliver it promptly.”
With that, the trusted wet nurse backed away. Before leaving the palace hall, she dared not even raise her head. Only after stepping outside did she finally dare to lift her tense, lowered shoulders.
Summer reigned outside the corridor eaves.
The shade of the emerald trees was dense and green, and a gentle breeze swept across the eaves to brush against garments. The warmth of the sun overhead brought a comforting sensation of life, making the wet nurse feel once again as though she were walking among the living.
Passing through the corridor, she happened to witness a little eunuch stepping out of the imperial kitchen carrying a round tray with an eight-treasure medicine box. The trusted wet nurse stopped him to ask if it was Prince Qi’s medicine. Receiving an affirmative reply, she felt somewhat reassured and instructed, “Deliver it quickly.”
“Yes,” the little eunuch acknowledged, clutching the medicine box and heading straight toward the Hall of Clarity.
The Hall of Clarity was situated in the western sector, secluded and rarely frequented. Instead of blooming flowers and brocaded clusters, large swaths of mist-pine trees were planted around the grounds.
Mist-pines grew tall and cold-resistant, their needles resembling pine needles and their foliage a deep, verdant green. Regardless of winter or summer, they remained stubbornly, thickly green.
Green shade created daytime tranquility, and birdsong made the hall feel even more secluded as one traversed the long palace corridors.
Prince Qi, Ji Hengge, possessed a cold and stern disposition. Disliking social interactions, he often sat alone in his mechanical wooden wheelchair, reading books beneath the trees.
When the little eunuch arrived at the hall today, the scene was precisely the same.
Led by Prince Qi’s personal guard along the covered walkway, he could see Prince Qi’s figure seated beneath a patch of verdant pine trees from afar.
As the little eunuch walked step by step, the turning angles of the winding corridor shifted, revealing Prince Qi’s entire visage.
Seen among the pines, his form resembled a jade tree, his brows exquisite and fiercely striking.
The men of the Great Jin imperial family all possessed a hint of delicate beauty, and Prince Qi was no exception. His peach-blossom eyes were exceptionally alluring, surpassing even ordinary women by three parts. However, his facial bone structure was robust, adding a rugged masculine fierceness. Blended together, these traits forged a man who was both handsome, towering, and tinged with an exotic brilliance.
He resembled a jeweled, razor-sharp blade, precious, magnificent, and aggressively striking.
Yet such a fine man was confined to a mechanical chair, unable to move about freely.
Catching sight of Prince Qi from a distance, the little eunuch thought to himself, What a pity.
Everyone in the palace knew that Prince Qi had been ill for a long time.
Ever since the campaign against the Northern Zhao nation last year, Prince Qi’s legs had been crippled, leaving him unable to move. His health had deteriorated day by day, and the imperial physicians whispered that he might not make it through this month of June.
What a pity indeed, having never even taken a wife.
While the little eunuch was privately murmuring, the guard already took the medicine tray and carried it directly to Prince Qi. Prince Qi set aside his book, picked up the bowl, and drank it.
As Prince Qi took his medicine, the little eunuch stared unblinkingly.
The Empress Dowager cared deeply for Prince Qi’s health, inquiring closely every time medicine was administered, and those of them doing menial labor had to pay strict attention.
Once the bowl of medicine was finished, the empty bowl was returned by the guard to the little eunuch, who was tipped with some silver coins and told, “Thank you for making the special trip, Eunuch.”
Accepting the empty bowl, the little eunuch bowed. “It is all due to the Empress Dowager’s grace; this servant dares not claim credit.”
After several polite exchanges, the little eunuch took his leave.
Only after the little eunuch departed did the guard step back behind Prince Qi, pulling a bowl out from beneath his wide, flowing sleeve like a magic trick, the bowl filled to the brim with dark medicinal broth.
Clearly, the bowl of medicine the little eunuch had watched him finish moments ago had never passed Prince Qi’s lips.
The guard poured the medicine out beneath the mist-pine tree nearby, whispering softly, “Your Highness, this is the third tree that has withered.”
Seated in his wheelchair, Ji Hengge maintained a cold expression, tinged with a faint trace of exhaustion.
The medicine provided by the Empress Dowager, Ji Hengge had drunk a bowl of it at the very beginning. The night he finished it, he had nearly met his maker, and thereafter he refused to touch another drop, feeding it solely to the trees in the courtyard instead.
Trees could not speak; they simply withered away quietly, much like Ji Hengge’s heart.
His health had long since turned sour. Poisoned by Gu venom during the battle of Northern Zhao last year, his legs completely crippled and stripped of strength, he was merely dragging out a lingering existence and might well die any day now.
Yet the Empress Dowager could not even wait a few more days, sending medicine with increasing frequency, presumably terrified that he might survive this ordeal.
Outsiders in the court often spoke of the Empress Dowager’s deep affection for Prince Qi, her blood relative. In reality, Ji Hengge knew very well that the Empress Dowager wished nothing more than for him to have died in that war against Northern Zhao.
Since he had not died and had returned alive, the Empress Dowager had no choice but to send him to his death personally.
The reason, simply because his surname was also Ji, carrying the imperial designation, and the Empress Dowager was terrified he might seize Emperor Wenkang’s throne.
When the Empress Dowager’s health had still been robust, she had never made a move against him. But now, with the Empress Dowager herself reaching the end of her days, she feared that upon her death, Emperor Wenkang would be unable to keep Ji Hengge in check. Therefore, she intended to eliminate Ji Hengge before she died.
Ji Hengge looked at the withered tree and found it utterly laughable.
He had shared a genuine bond of brotherhood with the late emperor, and thus regarded the Empress Dowager as his own sister-in-law. Following the late emperor’s death, he had faced life and death time and again without a single word of complaint. Hengge, Hengge, for three hundred and sixty days a year, his sword was ever drawn as he marched across the battlefields. He had shed half his life’s blood and crippled a pair of legs for the Great Jin, only to end up in such a state.
The Empress Dowager was a woman of extreme callousness, valuing power over grace, trusting no one, and hoarding all good things exclusively for her son. Anyone who posed even the slightest threat to her son had to die.
He had not perished beneath the sharp fangs of Northern Zhao’s Gu army, only to die within the embroidered trap of this inner palace.
The Empress Dowager’s suspicion clung to him like a soaked garment in winter, pressing against his flesh, growing colder with every layer, so cold that his body was hunched, his spirit grew increasingly weary, and sitting in his wheelchair, he had no desire to speak a single word.
He felt only that this tedious Great Jin was no longer worth his attachment.
The fierce summer sunlight filtered through the gaps in the pine needles, forming a mottled path of light across his face. He watched it quietly, desperately wishing he could stand up once more, fly away from this place, and return to the borders of Northern Zhao. There, alongside his fallen comrades, he could dissolve his flesh and blood into the muddy earth and bring an end to this unworthy life.
“Your Highness.” The guard failed to notice the faint intent of death lingering around the Prince, still worrying over his survival as he asked, “The Empress Dowager does not have much time left, and her final desperate counterattack before death will be terrifying. We can no longer sit passively and wait for our doom.”
The Empress Dowager had attempted poisoning several times, all of which the Prince had evaded. Seeing that the Prince stubbornly refused to die, the Empress Dowager was growing desperate.
A few days ago, the Empress Dowager had even used the pretext of a prayer ceremony to send away both the imperial children and daughter-in-law, showing just how ruthless her intentions were. If poison still failed to kill Ji Hengge, the Empress Dowager might resort to other means.
“Make arrangements,” Ji Hengge tilted his head back, gazing up at the patch of sky above, and commanded, “Find a scapegoat.”
He could die, but not inside the imperial city.
If the Empress Dowager wanted him dead, then he would “die” to satisfy her.
Once Prince Qi perished here, there would no longer be a Ji Hengge in this world, and the empire of Great Jin would have nothing more to do with him.
The guard lowered his head in assent.
Originally, the Prince’s plan had been to smuggle a scapegoat into the palace within these few days, after which he would fake his death and escape Jianye. However, midway through execution, a sudden glitch had occurred.
Emperor Wenkang, who should have been praying in the Sanling Mountains, abruptly turned back, bringing along an amulet bestowed by the Bodhisattva.
Word had it that in order to pray for Prince Qi’s health, Emperor Wenkang had knelt continuously before the Bodhisattva day and night for three whole days and nights, refusing to leave the Prayer Hall even after catching a chill. Moved by the Emperor’s sincere devotion, the Bodhisattva had specifically bestowed a peace amulet. Emperor Wenkang had immediately decided to set off for Jianye overnight, rushing back from the mountains despite his illness just to deliver the peace amulet personally to Prince Qi.
When this news reached Jianye, Prince Qi remained silent for a long time.
Let alone Prince Qi, even the Empress Dowager felt compelled to summon the Emperor and inquire.
Since when have the two of you been this close?
That day, the Hall of Longevity.
Upon returning to the palace, Emperor Wenkang did not even rest in his quarters before being summoned alone to the Hall of Longevity.
On this day, the summer heat was scorching.
The blazing sun overhead beat down upon “Emperor Wenkang’s” back. The palace corridors he had traversed hundreds of times suddenly felt utterly unfamiliar, as if she no longer knew how to walk them. With the skin of her imperial brother, Ning Yue clumsily followed behind the palace maid, her heart pounding so loudly she could hear every beat.
As they neared the hall, the chilling, icy air of the interior washed over her, sending a shiver down her spine. She slowly crossed the threshold and stepped into the front hall.
Empress Dowager Yan sat high upon her chair, her eyes half-closed as if resting, or perhaps as if her body had been hollowed out by time, transforming her into a withered sculpture. The freezing cold air throughout the hall solidified her flesh, trapping her forcibly in this place.
Yet, the moment she saw Emperor Wenkang, her frozen physique slowly thawed. A spark of brilliance returned to her clouded eyes, and she looked upon her son with a fond smile.
Empress Dowager Yan was very old, her vision failing so that everything appeared blurry. Sitting here, she merely maintained her breath by sheer willpower. Back then, Yan Lingyi had been unable to tell them apart, and now Empress Dowager Yan was even less capable of doing so.
Of course, it was also possible that Empress Dowager Yan had never entertained such a thought, thus lingering over certain details, after all, what Yan Lingyi was pulling off was audacious enough that practically no one would ever guess it.
In short, Empress Dowager Yan behaved just as usual, bidding Emperor Wenkang to come sit and converse with her in detail.
Ning Yue inched forward step by step to answer the Dowager’s inquiries.
When the Dowager asked why the Emperor had sent an amulet to Prince Qi, Yongning replied, “My imperial uncle has exerted himself to the utmost for the court; your child wished to do something for him.”
Emperor Wenkang and Prince Qi were indeed not particularly close, but they were uncle and nephew, sovereign and subject. Setting aside the possibility that Prince Qi might harbor treasonous ambitions, Emperor Wenkang ought indeed to show utmost solicitude toward Prince Qi.
The explanation sounded thoroughly plausible.
Gazing affectionately at her son, the Empress Dowager thought to herself that her child was truly kind-hearted, and his previous unruly behavior had merely been childish temper tantrums.
Meanwhile, Ning Yue thought to herself that, just as Imperial Sister-in-law had predicted, the Dowager asked only these few standard questions; once she offered a couple of soothing replies, the Dowager would not grow suspicious.
However, Empress Dowager Yan remained uneasy about Emperor Wenkang meeting with Prince Qi.
Prince Qi was well-versed in martial arts, commanded a vast number of elite troops, and wielded immense influence among the court’s military generals. If not for his crippled legs, Empress Dowager Yan would never have dared to move against him. Seeing that repeated poisonings had failed to kill the man, the Empress Dowager had grown somewhat apprehensive.
She wondered, could Prince Qi be biding his time and concealing his ambitions?
Were Prince Qi’s legs genuinely crippled?
Would Prince Qi immediately launch a rebellion after her death?
At the mere thought of Prince Qi slaughtering Northern Zhao, Empress Dowager Yan felt a chill crawl down her spine.
Prince Qi had to die; otherwise, her son’s imperial throne would be difficult to secure.
Crucially, Emperor Wenkang was unaware that the Dowager was poisoning Prince Qi.
Her son was still young and could not handle such matters, which was why Empress Dowager Yan had never mentioned it, intending to clear away the final stumbling block for her son before her own death.
Just as the Empress Dowager was searching for a pretext to decline the meeting, she heard Emperor Wenkang say, “Your child will take the Empress along to visit my imperial uncle.”
Empress Dowager Yan pondered for a moment and felt reassured.
Yan Lingyi was a child she had raised with her own hands. From the moment she gave birth to a son, she had begun cultivating a wife for him. No one knew Yan Lingyi’s temperament better than Empress Dowager Yan.
Yan Lingyi possessed the bones of a loyal official and was willing to go through fire and water for the Great Jin. Moreover, Yan Lingyi was Emperor Wenkang’s wife, the Empress, and it was entirely proper for her to worry and run errands for Emperor Wenkang. The burdens she carried ought now to be handed over to Yan Lingyi to shoulder.
“My child has filial piety,” Empress Dowager Yan smiled, the wrinkles on her face trembling gently. “That is good, go ahead.”
After exchanging a few more words, Emperor Wenkang rose to take his leave. Empress Dowager Yan nodded with a smile, watching her son depart.
As her son left, Empress Dowager Yan continued to sit quietly on her elevated seat, gazing down. Affectionately watching her son step out of the gloomy, silent doorway and into a flood of golden brilliance, she broke into a genuine smile.
As long as her son fared well, she would be happy even in death.
That night, the imperial couple invited Prince Qi to converse at the Star-Watching Pavilion.
The Star-Watching Pavilion was located in the eastern sector of the imperial city and carried considerable history.
In his earlier years, the late emperor loved observing celestial phenomena and frequently lodged at the Star-Watching Pavilion. Being twenty years younger than Ji Hengge, the late emperor had raised Ji Hengge like a son since childhood; whenever the late emperor stayed at the Star-Watching Pavilion, Ji Hengge stayed there as well.
Later on, after the late emperor passed away and Ji Hengge grew up, he moved out of the Star-Watching Pavilion.
Consequently, the pavilion had grown quiet and desolate, rarely visited by anyone, virtually akin to a cold palace.
To Ji Hengge, the Star-Watching Pavilion felt like an old dream.
Tonight, with the imperial couple inviting him to the Star-Watching Pavilion to sample wine and view the stars, Ji Hengge took one look and instantly sensed that these two harbored malicious intentions.
In his eyes, Emperor Wenkang was a useless good-for-nothing. Although they shared the bond of uncle and nephew, due to the Empress Dowager’s strict supervision, the two had minimal interaction and a distant relationship. Yan Lingyi, on the other hand, was the Empress Dowager’s lapdog in his eyes, whatever the Dowager pointed at, Yan Lingyi bit. For these two to issue an invitation, what good could possibly come of it?
Ji Hengge immediately suspected that the Empress Dowager’s poisoning had failed, prompting them to dispatch people to stage a modern-day Feast at Swan Goose Pass.
At the designated signal of a dropped cup, five hundred swordsmen would presumably burst forth from beneath the floorboards to chop him into mincemeat.
A surge of fighting spirit was stirred within Ji Hengge.
He had nowhere left to retreat, nor was there any need to retreat further. If these two insisted on taking his life tonight, he would certainly not sit passively and await death!
That night, Ji Hengge proceeded to the Star-Watching Pavilion in his carriage.
Perhaps aware that Prince Qi disliked noise and bustle, the attendants serving at the banquet tonight were exceptionally few, limited to a handful of palace maids pouring wine nearby.
Ji Hengge surveyed his surroundings.
The hall was vast and lofty, featuring vermilion eaves and golden pillars entwined with decorative lanterns. Instead of candlelight, the fixtures held priceless night-pearls that emitted a brilliant luster in the darkness, illuminating the entire grand hall.
The banquet was set within the front hall, furnished with only a single expansive table where he sat facing the imperial couple.
Scanning every hidden corner among the rafters and eaves, Ji Hengge’s gaze finally settled upon the opposite side of the table.
His nephew by blood and his niece-in-law sat squarely opposite him.
“My imperial uncle is gravely ill, and both my husband and I have been deeply worried. By requesting this amulet upon our return, we pray for my imperial uncle’s peace and health.” The speaker was Yan Lingyi.
Ji Hengge was completely unfamiliar with Yan Lingyi; they had no personal acquaintance, and today was the very first time they sat together to drink wine. Raising his eyes, Ji Hengge cast an obscure, cautious appraisal of her.
Yan Lingyi had a round face and phoenix eyes, wearing a vermilion-brocade phoenix diadem and white silk robes as she sat upright behind her low desk. Her spine was straight and poised, and her kneeling posture departed from the norm of ordinary women who kept their legs pressed together on a single-legged round stool; instead, her knees were parted, spaced shoulder-width apart. Rather than sitting casually, she knelt in rigid alignment, a standard martial artist’s posture.
Ji Hengge swept a glance over her and withdrew his gaze. Though he did not look again, he maintained an internal guard.
This woman, Yan Lingyi, was truly rather peculiar.
Her appearance was not peerless, but her brows and eyes held a distinct heroic spirit. Entirely devoid of coquettish allure, she instead radiated an air of poised, unshakeable ownership. Even with Prince Qi and Emperor Wenkang seated before her, she retained a bizarre sense of superiority, as though everyone in the world were merely chess pieces in her hands and she could do as she pleased. Where on earth did she get such confidence, was it bestowed by the Empress Dowager?
As for his nephew, a wastrel through and through for a decade, he sat blankly at the table, saying not a word save for occasional stolen glances at Yan Lingyi.
It appeared he let a woman call the shots. One had to wonder how the Empress Dowager expected such a son to safeguard the vast empire of Great Jin.
For some inexplicable reason, whenever he looked at Emperor Wenkang, he felt a faint sense of oddness, though he could not pinpoint the exact source.
Amidst his reflections, Yan Lingyi used two fingers to push a cup of wine across the table, saying, “Please partake, Imperial Uncle.”
The wine was crystal clear, showing no visible sign of poison. Ji Hengge raised a hand to accept it, brought it before him, and then, utilizing the cover of his wide sleeves, slid it down into his robes while feigning the motion of swallowing.
Yan Lingyi watched intently as Ji Hengge drained the cup, only then feeling somewhat reassured.
Three rounds of drinks later, all three occupants of the table showed hints of intoxication. Yan Lingyi then suggested, “The night is late; why not rest here?”
Emperor Wenkang was too drunk to tell the four directions apart; clearly, the true adversary tonight was Yan Lingyi.
Seated behind his desk, Ji Hengge raised his head.
The night-pearl suspended from the lantern above his head cast a watery, pale-white illumination that shifted with his upward movement, flowing from his sharp brows to his alluring eyes, creating a stunning, rippling effect.
He met Yan Lingyi’s gaze quietly for a couple of breaths, then curved his lips into a smile. With the demeanor of a completely harmless, pliable cripple, he replied, “Very well.”
That night, the three of them split into two chambers to rest.
When midnight arrived, Yan Lingyi draped a light blanket over the sleeping Ning Yue, then slipped out through her bedroom window.
Coming to the Star-Watching Pavilion, she had specifically cleared the surrounding area; even the Jinwu Guards patrolling at night would not approach this place, leaving only a few eunuchs and maids on watch.
These maids were ordinary mortals who had not opened their martial meridians. Yan Lingyi bypassed them effortlessly, scaled the side chamber, and headed straight for Prince Qi’s bedchamber.
Night.
The stars and moon shone bright, the Milky Way spanned the heavens.
Not a single human voice could be heard, save for the sound of the wind rustling among the trees.
A figure suddenly vaulted onto the rooftop, stepping across the ridge beasts. Her pearl-embroidered shoes trod over glazed tiles, her skirt fluttering in the moonlight all the way to the eaves of Prince Qi’s quarters.
The athletic, slender figure executed a sharp pivot, kicking open the window from beneath the eaves like a swallow in flight, plunging into the room in an instant.
When Yan Lingyi landed, the interior was utterly silent, so quiet that she seemed to hear only her own breathing. In the split second she turned around, Yan Lingyi caught sight of Prince Qi Ji Hengge resting upon the bed.
Aside from Ji Hengge, hidden in various blind spots throughout the chamber were four dark guards. These were Ji Hengge’s loyal personal guards, brought along specifically as a contingency measure.
Yet Yan Lingyi remained completely oblivious to them.
In her eyes, Ji Hengge was merely a terminally ill prince on the verge of death. What Emperor Wenkang did not know, she likewise remained ignorant of; the Empress Dowager had kept her secrets well, and Ji Hengge had kept his even better. Ordinarily, she should never have discovered the truth in her entire lifetime; she had simply stumbled upon it herself by taking a completely different path in this lifetime.
Her gaze concentrated intensely on the bed, scanning him critically from his face down his torso, finally coming to rest upon his waist and abdomen.
Prince Qi’s legs were crippled, and having been bedridden for years without even a woman by his side, rumors outside claimed that Prince Qi’s manhood had long since been ruined during the wartime chaos.
If it were truly ruined, then her trip today would have been entirely in vain.
“Let’s hope it’s still usable,” the audacious Empress murmured to herself.