Chapter 28 — Sacrificed by the Heir: Reborn as Yue Zhaoyue to Avenge Sixteen Years of Injustice

The Great Hall remained shrouded in a heavy, suffocating silence. Everyone understood the truth. It was a single, cowardice-driven word—fear—that had purchased sixteen years of unmitigated tragedy. The Chief Justice of the Supreme Court stepped forward, his footsteps echoing against the cold stone floor.

"You were afraid, so you hid the child. That is perhaps understandable. But what else did you do?"

He unfurled a scroll, his voice cutting through the stillness like a blade. "The first charge: concealing the identity of a loyal official's orphan. The second: failing to report a classified case to the Imperial Court. The third: accepting forbidden incense from Consort To to suppress evidence. The fourth: secretly selling Spring Blossom to destroy a key witness. The fifth: forcing Yue Zhaoyue to swallow a potion that stole her voice, ensuring she could never testify. The sixth: shielding Shen Yuntang despite knowing of her crimes. The seventh: forcing your adopted daughter to bear every burden for your own flesh and blood."

With every charge read aloud, the color drained further from the face of Shen Hang. By the end, he barely possessed the strength to remain kneeling. The Emperor looked down at him from the dais, his gaze piercing.

"Do you have any defense to offer?"

Shen Hang slowly shook his head. "My Emperor, I dare not. I only ask that you spare the Shen family."

Upon hearing those words, I closed my eyes. Even now, at the bitter end, he still pleaded for his family. He had never once asked how I had survived these past sixteen years. The Emperor's voice turned frigid. "Spare them? By what right do you ask for mercy? You betrayed the dying wish of the deceased. You allowed the child of a loyal servant to be trampled by your own kin. You allowed her to shoulder the disgrace of your own daughter. Did you ever once consider sparing her?"

Every word was a blade carving into the soul. Shen Hang bowed his head low, and at last, two lines of tears fell. He turned to look at me—the first time in sixteen years his eyes held no reproach, no cold indifference, and no disappointment that I refused to yield to his precious daughter. There was only the hollow ache of regret.

"Yue Zhaoyue..." he began, his voice rasping. He paused, struggling, before correcting himself with a raw, broken tone. "Yue Zhaoyue. It was this father who failed you."

He offered a bitter, self-deprecating laugh. "I no longer have the standing to call myself a father. I know I am guilty. But the Shen family is innocent. Can you..." He looked up at me, desperation surfacing. "Can you beg the Emperor just this once? If you only speak, he will surely listen."

Every gaze in the hall shifted to me. They all knew: one word from me would grant Shen Hang an easier path. I looked at him, and scenes from my past flickered before my eyes: me kneeling in the snow, Qing Xing beaten until she was soaked in her own blood, the bowl of silencing medicine pressed against my lips, and his cold, dismissive command: "You must learn to be sensible." I remembered the way he looked at me when I begged for the truth: "Do not implicate Yuntang."

I took a slow step forward. The hall fell deathly silent. Shen Hang looked at me, a flicker of hope igniting in his eyes. I bowed calmly to the Emperor.

"My Emperor, I have nothing to ask for."

The light in Shen Hang's eyes extinguished instantly. I looked down at him, my voice barely a whisper. "The day my mother entrusted me to you, she begged you to save me. You did not. The day I was framed, I begged you to investigate. You did not. The day I was forced to drink that potion, you still did not save me. For sixteen years, I begged you countless times. Not once did you reach out a hand. And so, today, I ask that you do not beg me either."

I took a step back, refusing to turn around again. The hall was filled only with the muffled sobs of Shen Hang. The Emperor closed the file, his voice ringing with imperial authority. "Shen Hang, for betraying a sacred trust, concealing an official's orphan, destroying evidence, and shielding criminals, I hereby strip you of all official rank. Half of your estate shall be confiscated for the treasury. You are stripped of your titles and exiled to the Northwest; you shall never return to the capital without an imperial summons. From this day forward, the Shen estate shall be under the supervision of the Ministry of Revenue and the Supreme Court. So it is decreed."

As the decree fell, Shen Hang collapsed onto the cold floor, his strength utterly spent. He did not plead anymore. He only watched my retreating back. Perhaps, at that moment, he finally understood: the only person who could have saved the Shen family was the daughter he had never truly accepted as his own for sixteen years.

After the decree, the Shen estate felt as though it had entered a winter night that would never see the dawn. The signboard remained, but the seal of the law was everywhere. Trunks of gold were sealed, land deeds were confiscated, and servants scurried away with their belongings—a clear sign to all that the glorious Shen estate was no more. I did not return out of lingering affection; I returned only to reclaim what rightfully belonged to my parents. In Shen Hang’s old study, the investigators found the wooden box. Inside, alongside a few letters, lay the handkerchief my mother had used to wrap the wooden token she gave him. Sixteen years he had kept that cloth, yet he had never kept his promise. I took the handkerchief, folding it carefully into my sleeve.