Chapter 7 — The Day Chiêu Nhi Wore the Dragon Robe

The proud and triumphant look that had once defined Jiang Yingxue was entirely gone.

Your Majesty, please, do not be like this...

Trembling, Jiang Yingxue stood near the chamber entrance.

Xie Qinghuan is already dead. The deceased cannot return to life. Can we not... can we not simply live well together, please?

Pei Jing looked at her. Those formerly handsome eyes were now completely webbed with bloodshot veins.

Live well together?

He laughed, a sound that was simultaneously desolate and ferocious.

Jiang Yingxue, do you deserve it?

If not for you, how could I have ever cast Qinghuan into such a place?

If not for your absurd rhetoric about how everyone is supposedly equal, how could I have treated her with such chilling indifference for three full years?

Ah, yes... it was all because of you.

Staggering, Pei Jing forced himself to his feet. Without his noticing the exact moment, a sharp dagger had materialized within his grasp.

Your Majesty! What are you trying to do? I am Yingxue! I am the Yingxue you love the most!

Screaming in terror, Jiang Yingxue retreated step by step.

My Qinghuan has died. Down in the nether springs, she must be terribly lonely all by herself.

With hollow eyes, Pei Jing stared at her, advancing inexorably.

Did you not claim that souls persist after death, that equality exists everywhere? Then go down there, stand before Qinghuan, and lecture her on your precious equality. Would you like that?

Ah—!

A harrowing shriek echoed through the inner chamber. Yet this time, no one would ever come to her rescue again. That very night, Pei Jing went alone to the Hall of Earthly Tranquility, ordering all attendants to withdraw. He knelt before the ice coffin, repeatedly stroking my chilled visage.

Qinghuan, I know everything now.

It was Yingxue. Those seven eunuchs and the men in the pleasure house today were all arranged by her hand.

I was the most foolish man in the world. With my own hands, I cradled the one who harmed you against my chest, while pushing you straight into a fiery pit.

Unable to continue, Pei Jing collapsed forward across the ice coffin, weeping like a broken child.

Qinghuan, I have wronged you. I have wronged Zhaor/er. I have wronged our unborn child.

In this lifetime, I owe you a debt I can never, ever repay.

Floating high in the air, I looked down upon the man who had once made me love him with all my heart, only to plunge me into utter despair. Yet within my breast, not a single ripple stirred. He knew the truth now. But of what use was knowledge? I was already dead. The torment, the humiliation, the endless months of lacerating anguish would not be erased simply because he had finally discovered the facts. My spirit began to grow lighter, more translucent by the moment. I knew it was time for me to depart. But at that exact instant, I heard Zhaor/er's voice.

Grandfather.

Zhaor/er knelt before Xie Yuanshan, a white mourning band tied tightly around her head.

Mother cannot die in vain. That foolish tyrant is completely unworthy of holding the realm.

Xie Yuanshan gazed down at his granddaughter. In his eyes flickered pain, profound fury, and a lingering trace of hesitation.

Zhaor/er, what is it you intend to do?

Rebel.

Zhaor/er raised her head. Her eyes, identical to mine yet infinitely more resolute than I had ever been, locked onto Xie Yuanshan.

Grandfather, you command an army of three hundred thousand men. Half the military officials at court are your disciples. With a single wave of your hand, the entire realm will rise in response.

Xie Yuanshan remained silent for a long time.

Zhaor/er, you are a princess. Even if we overthrow him, the one who ascends the Dragon Throne can only be your maternal uncle or your cousin.

It will not be your turn.

Zhaor/er smiled. That smile was the exact mirror image of my youth—radiant, unyielding, and carrying a stubborn refusal to accept defeat.

Grandfather, who declared that a princess cannot become an emperor?

Throughout her entire life, simply because she was a woman, Mother was bullied, humiliated, and treated as a mere pawn to be discarded at whim.

I refuse to be a pawn. I intend to become the one who holds the banner.

Xie Yuanshan stared at the sixteen-year-old maiden before him, remaining speechless for a long while. Beyond the window, moonlight like flowing water drifted down upon Zhaor/er's white mourning garments, wrapping her form as though she donned a suit of silver armor.

Very well.

At last, Xie Yuanshan spoke.

This old man's life should have been laid down for Qinghuan long ago. If Zhaor/er wishes to contend for it, then this grandfather shall fight alongside you once.

Not for the sake of the realm, but for Qinghuan. And also... to ensure that this world never breeds a second Xie Qinghuan.

Not long afterward, the Xie family raised the banner of rebellion. Consumed by madness and remorse, Pei Jing refused to hold court for an entire month. State affairs fell into utter neglect, border defenses grew perilous, and memorials piled as high as mountains from every corner of the empire. Once word spread that Jiang Yingxue had been subjected to the punishment of a thousand cuts, the populace erupted in uproar. Some cheered in vindication, while others began to question Pei Jing's blinding ignorance. First he had been hoodwinked by a sorceress, and now he had ruthlessly slaughtered the Imperial Noble Consort whom he had once cradled in the palm of his hand. Was a man like that truly fit to be emperor? Seizing the opportunity under the banner of purging the ruler's side, Xie Yuanshan led his armies marching directly toward the capital, encountering virtually no resistance whatsoever.