Chapter 4 — The Secret the Empress Dowager Concealed

As I was dragged down from the execution grounds, my legs were still trembling. It was not from the fear of death, but rather the exhaustion of oscillating between the precipice of the afterlife and the sudden reprieve of existence; anyone would find their knees turning to jelly after such a relentless back-and-forth. Xie Xiaoman, who was being led alongside me, asked in a hushed tone, "Sister, are you truly someone associated with the late Empress?"

I turned to look at her. "What do you think?"

She stared at me for a long time, scrutinizing my face. "When we were children, you could finish three chicken legs in a single sitting."

"And?"

"I doubt people from the palace have appetites like that, right?"

I remained silent, thinking, "Thank you, sister. You truly have a unique way of comforting people." Behind us, Xie Wencheng chimed in, "Sister, if you really have such a grand background, could you see to it that my questionable bloodline is cleared of suspicion later?"

My mother spoke in a dark, icy tone, "Does it bother you that much?" Xie Wencheng immediately bowed his head. "Not at all. If Mother says I am your biological son, then I am. If Mother says I am not, then I can be not."

My father, walking in front, let out a long, weary sigh. "What a spineless creature."

My mother let out a cold laugh. "And you have plenty of backbone, I suppose? Enough to discard every blood relation this family possesses?"

My father fell silent. As we entered the celestial prison, the iron gates groaned open, one heavy layer after another. A damp, suffocating chill rushed to meet us. The eyes of the guards following us held a complex mix of pity and curiosity. I suspected that the day's spectacle at the execution grounds would spread throughout the capital before the sun set. The Marquis of Zhenbei had failed to recognize his own kin before his death; the eldest daughter was suspected of being a remnant of the late Empress; the younger daughter had avoided the blade only because she was missing from the family register; the legitimate son’s lineage had been publicly questioned; and the Lady of the house had fainted twice. It was a tragedy of such proportions that tea houses would be busy recounting the tale for the next ten days.

We were confined to the deepest cell at the very end of the prison, with imperial guards posted outside. The moment we entered, my father collapsed onto the straw. "I am exhausted to the point of death."

My mother immediately landed a kick in his direction. "You have the audacity to complain of fatigue?"

My father clutched his leg. "My lady, we have just stepped off the execution block; could you be a little more gentle?"

As my mother prepared to strike again, I quickly intervened. "Mother, let us address the important matters first."

My mother's chest heaved, but she relented. "Ask then!"

I walked to my father’s side. "Father, who am I, really?"

Xie Xiaoman and Xie Wencheng scrambled closer. My mother remained motionless, but I noticed her ears were strained to catch every word. My father looked up at me, the mocking, carefree facade slowly draining from his face.

"I do not know."

My heart sank. "You do not know?"

"I only know that the piece of jade you carried came from the Phoenix Pavilion."

"What is the Phoenix Pavilion?"

My father lowered his voice to a whisper. "It was a secret guard unit overseen by the late Empress during her lifetime, specifically tasked with investigating royal secrets. After the Empress passed, the Phoenix Pavilion was burned to the ground in a single night. Only a handful of people survived."

My fingertips turned ice-cold. "So, there are people hunting down the survivors of the Phoenix Pavilion?"

My father shook his head. "They are not hunting the survivors." He stared intensely into my eyes. "They are hunting what the Phoenix Pavilion was tasked to protect."

I unconsciously touched my neck. The jade had already been confiscated by the Emperor. My father continued, "The people in the carriage that year seemed to be escorting you away from the capital. If you were merely an ordinary infant, no one would have sent four elite experts to hunt you down in the middle of a blizzard."

Xie Xiaoman’s voice trembled. "Then what are you, sister?"

Before my father could answer, footsteps echoed from outside the cell. They were light, precise, and lacked the lazy, dragging gait of the guards. An imperial guard shouted, "Who goes there?" In the next second, there was a muffled, abrupt moan. My father sprang to his feet. "Get down!"

A crossbow bolt whistled through the gap in the prison door, grazing my ear and embedding itself deep into the wall behind me. The tail of the bolt was still vibrating. A small slip of paper was tied to it. My father’s expression shifted, and I reached out to pull the note free. I unfolded it; there were only eight characters written in a sharp, elegant hand: "Tonight at the Hour of the Rat, Xie Ming Duong will die."

I stared at the eight words and, to my surprise, found that the fear had vanished. The most terrifying thing is not knowing who is trying to kill you. Now that it was clear, I felt a strange sense of order. The Hour of the Rat. The assailant was quite punctual.

Xie Xiaoman’s face was deathly pale as she clutched my arm. "Sister, what should we do?"

Before I could speak, my mother let out a cold, sharp laugh. "What should we do? We wait for him to arrive."

Xie Wencheng swallowed hard. "Mother, that sounds heroic, but we are currently locked in a cell with no blades in our hands."

My mother glared at him. "Are you not a scholar?"

Xie Wencheng blinked, confused. "What can a scholar do?"

"Scold him to death."

Xie Wencheng fell silent. My father was staring at the crossbow bolt, his gaze darkening. "These are not ordinary assassins." He pried the bolt from the wall and turned it over in his palm. "This is military-grade equipment."

My heart jumped. "Imperial guards?"

"Not necessarily." My father looked at the two fallen guards outside our cell. "But the fact that someone can use military crossbows inside the celestial prison proves that at least one of the major departments—the Ministry of Justice, the Imperial Guard, or the inner court—has been compromised."

Xie Xiaoman asked in a low voice, "Then are the Emperor's men even trustworthy?"

My father shot her a warning look. "Do not ask such questions outside of these walls."

"Why?"

"Because it makes the entire family untrustworthy."