Chapter 115.

The news of Consort Wen's death only reached Emperor Longfeng's ears after the Wan Shou Festival, three days after the Qianqiu Banquet. Rumor has it that her body was left hanging in the room for three whole days before anyone noticed.

When Longfeng Emperor first heard of it, he was stunned for a moment, his face visibly darkening, a flash of anger in his eyes: "How the hell did she just disappear like that, healthy as can be?"

He spared her life, so there had to be some lingering affection for the woman. Yet hearing of her sudden death stirred up a mix of emotions—anger, regret, and a sharp dissatisfaction with the eunuchs who had failed to keep an eye on her.

The young eunuch delivering the news lowered his head even further, cautiously replying, "Your Majesty, on the day of the Wan Shou Festival, Consort Wen said she would be copying Buddhist scriptures to pray for Your Majesty’s health, and ordered that no one disturb her while bringing her food. The servants were only to leave the food outside her door. For three days, the palace maids simply placed the food outside, but none of them checked on her. The food was eaten by rats from the cold palace, and when the maids didn’t hear any sound from the room, they began to grow suspicious. They went in to check, only to find she had already passed."

Hearing that Consort Wen had been thinking of him even at the time of her death, Emperor Longfeng’s expression softened, and for a moment, he hesitated. He couldn’t bear to let the woman he once favored die so pitifully. His steps faltered as he turned toward the door. “Prepare the carriage. I will accompany the consort on her final journey.”

Gao Xian, upon hearing the order, immediately had a carriage summoned and exchanged a glance with a small eunuch, who silently made his way toward the side hall.

By the time Yin Ciguang received the news, Emperor Longfeng’s imperial carriage was already on its way to the Changchun Palace.

From his vantage point, he could just make out the golden yellow of the imperial procession.

Standing by the window, his expression remained indifferent. This, perhaps, was the difference between being favored and not. His mother had been buried without a single glance from the Emperor. Yet here was a mere discarded consort, who had committed suicide in the cold palace, and the Emperor was rushing to send her off.

Yin Ciguang lowered his eyes, a hint of mockery playing at the corner of his lips.

Let’s hope the Emperor notices the "gift" he prepared, and remembers the favored concubine he still pines for.

In just a quarter of an hour, Emperor Longfeng's sedan chair stopped in front of Changchun Palace.

The cold palace was desolate and forgotten, a place long abandoned by life. The eunuchs, eager not to offend the emperor, hesitated as they pushed open the heavy doors, dusting off the grime before respectfully inviting the Longfeng Emperor inside.

It was the first time Longfeng Emperor had stepped into the Changchun Palace, but it certainly wasn’t his first time entering a cold palace.

When he was young, his birth mother was of lowly status, unimportant and unloved. The winter palace she had occupied had long been a forgotten corner, a cold, lifeless place. After his ascension to the throne, no one had dared to live there, but it was kept under careful watch. Yet, the Changchun Palace, steeped in ill omen, had slowly descended into another forgotten cold palace.

Perhaps it was the harsh memories of his childhood in such a desolate place that haunted him now. Before he even reached the main hall, he could feel the sorrow creep over him. He knew all too well the suffering of a place like this. Remembering the beautiful women who had once basked in his favor, now reduced to tragic figures, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of regret. Perhaps it was the unbearable coldness of this very palace that had driven the consort to hang herself.

The closer he got to the hall, the heavier the regret weighed on him.

When he reached the threshold, he stopped, pausing for a long moment. With a deep sigh, he ordered his attendant, Gao Xian, "After I’ve seen this, make sure they handle the consort’s body properly. She left in misery, but in death, she should have some dignity."

Gao Xian, ever obedient, quickly wiped down a nearby chair and offered it to the emperor. "I’ll go prepare the consort’s remains, Your Majesty. I don’t want you to be disturbed."

Longfeng Emperor nodded, sitting to wait.

It wasn’t long before Gao Xian returned, his expression troubled, as if he had something to say but wasn’t sure how.

Seeing the hesitation, Longfeng Emperor frowned. "What is it?"

Gao Xian hesitated before saying, "Your Majesty, perhaps you shouldn’t go in."

His vague warning only fueled Longfeng Emperor’s irritation. Frowning deeply, he stood up and headed toward the inner chambers. "What’s there that I can’t see?"

As he entered, his eyes fell upon the scattered papers that covered the floor. He didn’t need anyone to pick them up for him, but one of the eunuchs began to do so. Before they could present the papers to him, Gao Xian swiftly stopped them. "It’s full of vile language, Your Majesty. We wouldn’t want to dirty your eyes."

The more they tried to shield him, the more determined Longfeng Emperor became to see what was hidden. He snatched the papers from Gao Xian’s hand, expecting some form of sacred text. Instead, the words on the paper were written in vermillion ink—curses, dark and unholy. And the audacity of the text: his own name was scrawled among the lines.

"What is this?!" His face darkened immediately, his usual composure shattered. He was never one to tolerate such things.

Gao Xian ordered his men to gather up the scattered papers, speaking carefully, "These were all written by the imperial concubine before her passing..." He noticed the Emperor's growing anger, and hesitated, as if there was more to say.

"Is there more? Spit it out!" Emperor Longfeng snapped, his hand trembling in fury.

Gao Xian braced himself and reluctantly spoke up, "I had someone briefly examine the late concubine's body just now, and if I'm not mistaken, Your Majesty, she hanged herself on the day of the Qianqiu banquet. And when she did, she was dressed in red... It seems like she was performing a curse or witchcraft."

The Emperor, instinctively stepping back, stared at the body covered in white cloth inside the room. His gaze landed on the bright red embroidered shoes and the corner of the crimson skirt.

"Witchcraft?" Emperor Longfeng's face shifted from shock to a seething rage. "On the day of my longevity feast, she hanged herself—she was cursing me!"

All the pity and regret he had felt earlier evaporated into fury. Now, as he looked at the body, it was as if he were staring at the enemy of his very soul.

With a sharp flick of his sleeve, he stormed out. His anger still burning, he ordered with a trembling voice, "Burn the body immediately! Burn everything, every filthy thing with it! And send for Master Ziyuan to perform a ritual and expel the evil spirits!"

Not a moment longer did he want to remain in that place. Striding out, he climbed into his imperial carriage and hurried back to the Qianqing Palace.

Once back, feeling still unsettled, he burned every single piece of clothing he'd worn when visiting Changchun Palace. Only when the flames consumed it all did he feel some semblance of relief.

The noise from the Qianqing Palace was too much to ignore. The sound caught Yin Ciguang’s attention as he walked toward it, holding a freshly brewed medicinal soup in his hands. "What's going on with Father Emperor?" he asked, his voice laced with surprise. He had no idea what had happened at the Changchun Palace.

Emperor Longfeng glanced at him, and the memories of the Changchun Palace incident came rushing back.

Just earlier, he had been thinking about their past, planning to restore Wen Mier's title as a noble consort to ensure she left with some dignity. But that woman, on the day of his birthday no less, had dared to curse him!

Instead, it was his eldest son, whom he had often neglected, the one who, despite Wen Mier’s role in causing his mother’s death, never once held a grudge against him. He still, with devotion, continued to care for him in sickness.

A pang of regret hit Longfeng Emperor's heart, but he didn't want to revisit the painful memories of Changchun Palace. He softened his tone, his voice warm, "The servants just reported that the disgraced consort Wen hanged herself. I know she killed your mother, and her heart was rotten with malice. Her body has already been burned, as a final act of relief for your late mother, Consort Rong."

Yin Ciguang's eyes widened in surprise as he looked up at his father. "Father Emperor..." he began, but the Emperor raised his hand, signaling him to say no more. With a firm slap to his son’s shoulder, he gave him a look full of warmth. "You are a dutiful child, and I see it. I see everything."

Yin Ciguang lowered his gaze, silently offering the soup to him. "This is a new prescription from the imperial physician. He says it will do wonders for your health. Drink it while it's still warm, Father."

Was it the weight of his thoughts during the day that seeped into his dreams at night, or did that curse truly come to life? The night he returned from the Changchun Palace, Emperor Longfeng was plagued by a nightmare.

He lay there in his bed, fully aware of his surroundings, but his limbs felt as if they were bound by lead, heavy and immovable. He couldn’t stir, couldn’t even twitch. Trapped in this paralyzing nightmare, he endured hours of torment, his body aching as the night dragged on.

Only when the first light of day crept in did he finally break free from the crushing weight of sleep, desperately rushing to bathe and change. With no time to waste, he called for Master Ziyuan.

Master Ziyuan had only been to the Changchun Palace the day before, performing rituals to cleanse evil spirits, and he was well aware of the curse the Consort Wen had placed on the emperor during his birthday—a death curse.

As he paced through the Qianqing Palace, his fingers twitching nervously, he thought about how best to explain the situation without sounding like a fool. But before he could settle on a plan, a commotion outside interrupted his thoughts.

Turning sharply, he saw Emperor Longfeng, who had been perfectly fine just moments before, suddenly collapse onto the floor—motionless. The attendants in the hall panicked, scrambling to assist, some rushing to help him up, while others ran for the imperial doctors.

Master Ziyuan stepped forward, his face pale with alarm as he muttered, “It’s come true too quickly…”

No one had time to pay him any attention as they scrambled to lift the emperor and place him back onto the dragon bed. The imperial physicians arrived in a flurry, needling him with acupuncture and administering medicine, and after a grueling hour, the emperor finally regained consciousness.

His eyes fluttered open, but when he tried to speak, only garbled sounds escaped his lips. He struggled, trying to form words, his mouth clumsy and slow. After several attempts, he barely managed to whisper, “What’s happening… to me?”

Panic clouded his eyes as he realized he couldn’t even speak properly. Desperation flooded him, and he instinctively reached out for something, anything. But the more he tried, the more his body betrayed him. His limbs refused to obey, as though they were shackled. Finally, he managed to lift his hand and grab hold of the imperial doctor’s arm, his eyes wide with terror, as if pleading for answers.

The imperial doctor, noticing the Emperor’s agitation, quickly reassured him, "Your Majesty, it’s just that you’re under a lot of stress and haven't rested well. That’s why there’s a slight stroke symptom. With proper treatment like acupuncture and medicine, you'll recover significantly. Please, try not to let your emotions get the best of you!"

Hearing that recovery was possible, Emperor Longfeng’s anger subsided slightly, and with a strained voice, he managed to mutter, "Treat... it."

The doctor, still trembling, quickly complied and ordered for the medicine to be brought in. The concoction was personally delivered by Yin Ciguang, who carefully helped the Emperor drink it.

After the Emperor had taken the medicine and calmed down a little, the doctors stepped outside to discuss further treatments. The inner chamber was left with only the Emperor’s trusted confidants, including Gao Xian and Ziyuan Zhenren.

Emperor Longfeng fixed his gaze on Ziyuan Zhenren, his face darkening with anger.

Ziyuan Zhenren gave a subtle nod, confirming the Emperor's suspicions.

Emperor Longfeng gritted his teeth, a deep curse seething in his mind. He forced the words out through clenched jaws, "Zhenren... the ritual... to exorcise evil."

He said it in a clipped tone, but Ziyuan Zhenren understood immediately and nodded respectfully. "Rest assured, Your Majesty. I will prepare the ritual and begin once I return."

The news of the Emperor’s stroke had already spread, and several princes, along with high-ranking ministers, came to offer their visits.

After four or five days of rest, Emperor Longfeng was able to get up, though the stroke was irreversible. While he could still move, his face was numb, unable to express any emotion. His speech was slurred, and his body, once agile, now struggled with even the simplest tasks—his hands trembling as they reached for objects.

The imperial doctors continued their treatments, but their efforts were in vain.

Frustrated and seething inside, Emperor Longfeng feared that getting too worked up would worsen his condition. He gritted his teeth and endured it.

When the Crown Prince, the Third Prince, and several ministers arrived to visit, the Emperor’s face contorted in displeasure. However, he knew there was no way to suppress the situation any longer.

He purposely summoned Yin Ciguang and Xue Shu to stay by his side.

Meanwhile, the Crown Prince, the Third Prince, and the ministers stood at the bedside. Though everything appeared calm, the tension between the two sides was as clear as day.

Emperor Longfeng considered his words carefully before speaking slowly, his tone deliberate: "The imperial physicians has advised me to rest and avoid any further strain. From now on, all matters in court will be handled by the Crown Prince, who will act as regent."

His gaze fixed on Yin Chengyu, watching for any reaction, but the crown prince's expression remained unchanged. A strange feeling stirred within him, something he couldn't quite name, but he pushed it aside and continued, delivering his carefully thought-out plan bit by bit.

"But I also care for the Crown Prince. The burden can't fall solely on him. I will have Prince An and Xue Shu assist in sharing the weight. Prince An will oversee the matters of court, while the Crown Prince will make the final decisions. Ultimately, the reports will be presented to me by Xue Shu."

He'd thought this through. He intended to pit the Crown Prince and Prince An against each other, letting the brothers clash while Xue Shu remained neutral, overseeing both sides. In this way, even though the Crown Prince would be the regent, the true power would still be firmly in his hands.

Everyone in the room could sense that this decision was far from ideal, but who would dare question the Emperor? So, they simply accepted the decree and offered their thanks.

The only one not mentioned was Yin Chengjing, who clenched his fists, his eyes dark with frustration.

After leaving the Qianqing Palace, Yin Chengyu and Yin Ciguang parted ways at the gate. Yin Ciguang gave a respectful nod, as if he wanted to say something, but ultimately remained silent. Yin Chengyu returned the gesture and turned back toward the Ciqing Palace.

It wasn’t long before Xue Shu came looking for him.

Yin Chengyu had been waiting, so when he saw Xue Shu, he dismissed the attending eunuchs and asked bluntly, "Has the dosage been increased at Ziyuan’s side?"

The Emperor's stroke seemed suspicious.

Ever since the illness during the Winter Hunt, Emperor Longfeng had become oddly protective of his life, refraining from calling for any beauties and instead focusing on health practices under Master Ziyuan's guidance. Even Yin Ciguang’s daily massages had helped a little, prolonging the Emperor's declining health.

Emperor Longfeng's health would not have deteriorated so quickly.

Now, with no interest in women, the fragrance from the Consort De didn't do much, and with Consort Wen’s incident, only the regular medicinal pills were still working. Ziyuan Zhenren was cautious, careful not to increase the potency of the medicine too much for fear it would arouse suspicion from the imperial physicians and lead to accusations of poisoning the Emperor. As a result, the progress was slower than they had hoped.

This sudden stroke of the Longfeng Emperor was completely unexpected. Thinking back to the previous life at this time, the Emperor was still sharp and energetic, relying on elixirs to sustain him.

Xue Shu shook his head. He hadn’t ordered Ziyuan Zhenren to increase the potency of the medicine. The Emperor would die eventually, sooner or later—it didn't matter whether it was now or later. There was no need to take unnecessary risks.

“I’ve already consulted with the imperial physician, and there’s nothing abnormal. It seems this is just fate.”

Yin Chengyu paused for a moment, then set it aside. Whether there was something hidden or not, it no longer mattered to them.

He shifted to another topic. "The third prince is about to make his move. Any news from Uju?"

It was clear from the Emperor’s arrangements today that he intended to elevate Prince An to compete with him. The third prince, Yin Chengqing, hadn’t even been mentioned by name—he must be on the verge of losing his mind with frustration.

“I just received a message last night. She said something seems off with Yao Shi. She might already be aware.”

They had drawn Uju in to secretly investigate how Yao Shi had become pregnant. Given Yin Chengqing’s severe injuries, it was unlikely he’d ever recover, so the pregnancy must be suspicious.

However, the rumors surrounding it had already been cleared up due to the pregnancy, but talk alone wasn’t enough—solid proof was necessary.

Yao Shi couldn’t have gotten pregnant out of nowhere. The true father of the child would be the best evidence.

An impotent prince would never be able to claim the throne. When the time came, they'd catch hold of any slip-up, and he'd have no chance of recovering.

Yin Chengqing likely knew the consequences this situation could have on him, so he kept everything under wraps. It seemed even Yao Shi herself had been kept in the dark all along.

At first, Yin Chengyu suspected she was pretending, but after having people watch her for a long time, he ruled out that possibility.

Now, the news Uju sent over piqued his curiosity. "Yao Shi noticed?"

Xue Shu responded with a grunt. "Uju said Yao Shi has been staying indoors since the Qianqiu Banquet. The latest intel says Yao Shi seems to have felt some discomfort with the pregnancy. But she had someone send a message back to the Yao family, asking them to secretly inquire about the Ziyang Prince’s son. She also sent trusted maidservants to several pharmacies to buy a large amount of medicinal herbs. The doctors say these herbs could be used to make an abortion recipe.”

"Why does this involve the Ziyang Prince’s son?" Yin Chengyu frowned deeply.

Xue Shu answered, "I’ve already sent people to investigate, but there’s no conclusion yet."

But for Yao Shi to be asking about the Ziyang Prince’s son at this time... it was hard not to draw connections to the real father of the child.

If this was true, then Yin Chengjing had indeed put everything on the line.