He tried to lift her into his arms, but Quan Heng weakly shook her head and, with all her strength, pushed his hands away. “It’s too late. Don’t waste your effort. The food isn’t poisoned—this has nothing to do with Fendai or the others. Let them go.”
She gave a sorrowful smile, her face pale and exhausted. “I took the medicine myself. I wanted to escape this courtyard, even if it cost me my life—I was willing.”
Wen Zheng’s eyes were bloodshot. He cradled her face, choking on his words. “Ah Heng! I was wrong—I really was! I won’t imprison you anymore. I’ll let you go right now—just don’t leave me, please, please!”
Quan Heng shook her head. “At this point, none of that matters. Also… there’s something I lied to you about.”
“I think… if there really is a next life, let’s not meet again. Let’s just be strangers. Maybe that would be better.”
After saying this, blood spilled again from her lips. Wen Zheng’s whole body trembled in fear. He reached out to catch it, but the blood just kept coming, seeping through his fingers, soaking his body.
Tears streamed from Wen Zheng’s eyes like broken pearls. The terror in his eyes was real.
Quan Heng was in unbearable pain.
By now, there was no going back for them.
“Ah Zheng… goodbye. In this life and the next—we shall never meet again.”
With that, she coughed up one final mouthful of blood, closed her eyes, and stopped breathing.
At that moment, Wen Zheng let out a soul-shattering scream. “No! Don’t—Ah Heng, don’t leave me, I’m begging you, I’m begging you!”
He hugged her tighter, trembling hands checking her pulse and breath. When he could no longer feel either, he broke down in uncontrollable sobs.
The maids outside heard the commotion and rushed over. Seeing the blood covering the room, they all trembled in fear.
Fendai, who had spent the most time with Quan Heng in recent days, couldn’t believe her eyes. She rushed forward in shock. “Miss! What happened to you? Wake up!”
Wen Zheng’s eyes were red as blood. He looked up at her. “If you want to live, get out. Now.”
In that moment, he felt as if he’d returned to the dark, hellish years of his past.
It was because of Ah Heng that he’d learned to feel. Because she asked him to keep his hands clean of blood, he had tried to be a good person.
She was the only one he cared about in this world. And now that she was dead, it was as if his very blood was screaming.
He wanted to kill.
He wanted to see people crawl beneath his feet, soaked in blood.
He wanted everyone to die.
His eyes wild, teetering on the edge of madness, everyone around him felt a chill of terror run down their spines.
At that moment, they all had the same instinct: if they didn’t run, they would die.
Chaos broke out. Everyone scrambled to escape, fleeing the manor.
At the very least, they had to survive the night. None of them dared face this demon of a man.
In no time, the courtyard fell into silence, leaving Wen Zheng alone, cradling a corpse, tears falling like rain.
He hated the emperor. It was the emperor’s constant pressure that had forced them into this.
But he hated himself even more. These past days, he had been constantly away, rarely returning to check on Quan Heng. And whenever he did, they only fought.
He had broken her heart.
She must have hated him to the very core—so much that she’d rather die than stay with him.
He took her hand and pressed it to his cheek, whispering, “Ah Heng… please, wake up. I won’t imprison you anymore. I’ll give you anything you want, alright?”
But the person in his arms was already gone, her warmth fading. Though it was summer night, her body was already cold.
It felt like a blade had pierced Wen Zheng’s heart. The pain was numbing.
He held her close, weeping so hard he shook. “I always hated being a stand-in for Shen Zhengyu. I feared you never truly loved me. But now… if you could just wake up, I wouldn’t care anymore. I’d gladly be a stand-in for the rest of my life—just please, live. Please come back.”
He clutched her tightly against his chest, and his sanity crumbled.
That night, he held her and cried until his tears ran dry.
The grief of a youth echoed through the cold night, but the one he loved… would never return.
The next morning, some of the maids had fled. Others still hid. Only Fendai, eyes swollen, returned to the courtyard.
No matter what, she had been her lady’s servant. She had to send her off.
But as she reached the gate, she froze at the sight inside, mouth agape.
After just one night, the young master’s hair had turned completely white. His eyes were bloodshot, veins bulging beneath his skin—like a trapped beast driven to the edge.
She instinctively wanted to run, but in the next second, that person actually spoke to stop her.
“Prepare a basin of water and some clean cloths. I want to wipe her body.”
“And send someone to find an ice coffin. Bring it into the room.”
Fendai quickly nodded. “Y-yes.”
She ran back to the hiding place of the maids and old women, and after telling them what happened, they finally mustered the courage to return to the courtyard and began to busy themselves.
Wen Zheng carefully wiped the blood off Quan Heng’s face, changed her into a clean set of clothes, and gently laid her into the ice coffin.
Then, he climbed in himself and laid down beside her.
Seeing this, the servants in the courtyard began to plead, “Young Master, you mustn’t! The ice coffin is too cold, and you’re still injured—your body won’t be able to bear it!”
Fendai was even more anxious. “If something happens to you, what will we do?”
Lying in the coffin, Wen Zheng held Quan Heng tightly. “So this is how cold it feels to die… Tell me, if Ah Heng has to lie here like this forever, wouldn’t she be afraid?”
For a moment, everyone looked at him with worry, but no one dared to say anything more.
They had all seen with their own eyes how much the Young Master loved the Young Miss.
Now that she had just passed away, his grief was so deep it bordered on madness. Perhaps only lying beside her could bring him a shred of comfort.
For the next two days, Wen Zheng neither ate nor drank, only lying in the coffin without moving.
But it was summer, after all. Though the coffin was made of ice, it could not withstand the heat, and had already melted significantly.
If it continued like this, the ice coffin would soon become useless.
Fendai watched helplessly as Wen Zheng descended into madness. In the end, she steeled herself and tried to persuade him, “Young Master, the Miss has been gone for two days now. Maybe… maybe it’s time to lay her to rest.”
Wen Zheng ignored her. He simply held Quan Heng, silently letting tears fall as he looked at her pale face.
If he could, he would give up everything he had—just to bring Ah Heng back. He would give her anything, as long as she was willing to return.
Finally, on the third day, Wen Zheng’s trusted aide arrived.
When he saw Quan Heng in the coffin and His Highness’s head full of white hair, his heart gave a jolt.
He knew it wasn’t the right time, but the situation was urgent—he had no choice but to speak.
“Your Highness, there’s been word from General Zhenbei. The Yu family army is ready and has already set out, preparing to return to the capital in secret from the border. He sent someone to ask: what should we do next?”
Hearing this, Wen Zheng finally stirred.
For three days, he had lain in the coffin, not eating, not drinking. He even thought, maybe he could just go with Ah Heng like this—and that would be fine too.
But his aide’s message reminded him of something.
It was all because of the emperor—pressing and forcing them—that he and Ah Heng ended up like this. Why should their enemy still sit safe and sound on the throne, while he and Ah Heng had to die?
If he was going to die, he would avenge her first.
The emperor was cruel and heartless—not worthy of the title of ruler, and even less of a father. Since that was so, then he would go and kill him.
Even if the world accused him of patricide, he wouldn’t care.
He had never had a good name these past twenty years, and he didn’t need one going forward.
Once the world was settled, he would choose a suitable heir from the collateral branches of the royal family—and then, he would follow Ah Heng into death.
Opening his cracked, pale lips, Wen Zheng said, “Tell him to meet me at the usual place at midnight tonight.”
After speaking, he closed his eyes, and a tear fell.
“Also, find a few servants to dig a grave on the mountain… I want to personally bury her.”
With the current unrest, the entire Yongning Marquis household was still under a wanted order. Ah Heng couldn’t be buried in the ancestral tomb and had to be temporarily laid to rest in the back mountain.
But one day, once the Yongning Marquis’s name was cleared, he would move her, and be buried with her.
At dusk, he watched with his own eyes as Ah Heng was buried, and finally coughed up a mouthful of blood.
His aide quickly caught him. “Your Highness, are you all right?”
Wen Zheng wiped the blood from his lips. “From this moment on, everyone who hurt Ah Heng—none of them will die a good death. Also, find out who snuck into the villa during this time, told her about the outside world, and gave her the poison.”
“That person is vile beyond measure. I must find him and tear him to pieces.”
***
Wen Zheng left. All the maids and old servants in the courtyard were dismissed as well.
He had bought them originally to care for Quan Heng. Now that she was gone, there was no need for them to stay.
At dusk, Fendai knelt in front of Quan Heng’s grave and bowed three times, weeping bitterly.
“Miss, your life was so full of suffering. If there is a next life, you must live well. Don’t ever let love trap you again, and throw your life away like this.”
She touched the gravestone, choking with sobs. “Fendai is leaving. If fate allows, may we meet again in the next life.”
With that, she bowed three more times, stood up, and left.
Moments later, a rustle came from behind a nearby tree.
Shen Zhengyu looked around. Seeing that everyone had left, he finally let out a sigh of relief and began digging up the grave.
He lifted Quan Heng out of the coffin, buried the empty coffin again, covered it with dirt, and smoothed it over—if you didn’t look closely, you’d never notice anything strange.
This fake grave—was what would grant Heng’er her freedom.
He gently picked up the woman in his arms, covered her face with a cloth, and placed her in the carriage, then quietly left, heading to his countryside manor.
By the time they arrived, it was already midnight. Quan Heng had not yet awakened.
Shen Zhengyu sat beside the bed, gazing at her obsessively.
He reverently held her hand and murmured, “Heng’er, we’ve missed so many years… but now, you finally belong to me. Completely. Only to me.”
