Thunder rolled overhead, and rain poured down in torrents.
In front of the Hall of Diligent Governance, everything was deathly silent.
Someone came sprinting over and threw himself toward Prince Ping, who had collapsed on the ground, breaking that heavy silence.
The dazed crowd looked over and saw that the person was Duke Jin’an.
“Guards! Guards, summon the imperial doctors at once!” Duke Jin’an shouted.
That voice finally snapped everyone back to their senses.
“Get help! Get help, quickly!”
Everyone began shouting, but very few actually stepped forward.
In the curtain of rain, the people lying on the ground weren’t all dead – many of them were still moving, crying, shouting.
The scene was simply too terrifying. Thunder was still rolling across the sky.
Who knew who might be struck next?
Who knew whether Heaven would be enraged by their approach and send down another bolt…
Young Master Gao was screaming inside as well, but it was a scream with no meaning.
Struck by lightning! Struck by lightning!
“I sincerely confess my crime – I sincerely accept punishment. If there is even half a word of falsehood in what I say, may I be struck by thunder!”
So… it turned out that it really, truly… would happen…
Young Master Gao let out a wail, spun around, and bolted – only to collapse because his legs had gone weak, scrambling away on hands and knees.
Chen Shao had already gotten back up. Though half his body was still numb, when he saw Prince Ping lying ahead, he continued struggling forward, dragging himself across the ground.
What happened?
What happened?
“What happened?”
The ministers standing at the doorway suddenly heard someone behind them ask this question.
Disaster!
In that instant, none of the ministers could bring themselves to turn around.
How were they to face a father who had lost two sons in just a few days?
And that father was the Emperor – and those two sons were heirs to the realm…
Inside the great hall, there was not a sound—not even a sparrow’s chirp.
“What happened?”
The Emperor’s voice rose again. That thunderclap just now had blasted through his mind, leaving him dazed and almost fainting; he couldn’t hear or see anything for a moment. When he finally regained his senses, he saw all the ministers gathered at the doorway.
There had been thunder just now, and he seemed to have heard a scream. Had someone been struck?
Was it Chen Shao? Chen Shao had walked out just before.
Was it Chen Shao who was struck?
“What happened!” the Emperor suddenly barked, his voice sharply raised.
Before the ministers could answer, Chen Shao’s voice came from outside.
“…Carry him in, bring him into the hall…”
The Emperor’s expression eased.
Good – Chen Shao was all right. Listen to that strong, steady voice.
Good – he absolutely couldn’t afford to be harmed; the Emperor still needed him to help raise and support Prince Ping’s growth.
“…Hurry, summon the imperial doctors – summon them quickly…”
People were still shouting, but suddenly someone raised his voice to stop them.
“Don’t summon the imperial doctors!”
Everyone turned to look. The palace attendants had already carried Prince Ping to the covered walkway, and at those words they halted in a panic.
The minister who spoke lowered his head to look at Prince Ping lying before him and swallowed hard.
“It’s better to call for Lady Cheng,” he said hoarsely.
…Perhaps they should simply begin preparing the funeral rites.
It shouldn’t be too difficult…
The Ministry of Rites had been preparing the Empress’s funeral arrangements for years. The clothing wouldn’t be suitable, of course, but the coffin and related items could be used…
The tomb preparations were also fine…
The only question was whether Prince Ping could be buried in the imperial mausoleum.
After all, he had been killed by lightning – surely a sign of being a great traitor, a great calamity to the realm…
This… this…
Was he overthinking things?
The thought had barely formed when thud – a loud sound made all the gathered ministers look up in shock, only to see that the Emperor, who had approached unnoticed, had collapsed to the ground.
“Your Majesty!”
The great hall fell into chaos once more.
But the Emperor could no longer hear the noise or confusion. In his sight, there was only Prince Ping’s charred, blackened face…
No. No. No.
That wasn’t his Prince Ping. It wasn’t – it wasn’t!
How could anything be “good”? Chen Shao might be unharmed, but the Prince Ping who was supposed to grow up under his guidance would never grow up at all.
With that final thought flashing through his mind, the Emperor sank completely into darkness.
As the crowd surged toward the fallen emperor, Chen Shao did not rush over this time. Instead, he remained where he was.
The always steady and composed Chancellor Chen looked utterly disheveled now – his hair and robes soaked by rain, and from crawling through the downpour earlier, he had lost one of his boots and stood there in only a white sock. His expression was vacant as he looked from Prince Ping, abandoned on the ground on his side, to the Emperor surrounded by people on the other side.
“This really is a catastrophe,” he murmured.
How could this happen?
How could this happen?
Was he dreaming?
This nightmare was far too outrageous.
While the palace was in chaos, Cheng Jiao-niang’s carriage finally stopped before the palace gates.
The thunderstorm had come quickly and gone just as quickly – by the time she stepped down, Ban Qin hardly needed to hold the umbrella over her.
“Thank you, Young Master Qin, for escorting me. Please return now,” she said, turning to bow toward Qin Hu in the other carriage.
But Qin Hu did not look at her. Instead, he frowned toward the palace gates.
“What happened?” he muttered.
Why was it so noisy?
Cheng Jiao-niang also looked over. The guards there had spotted them and were pointing their way. A few eunuchs came stumbling and staggering toward them.
“Lady Cheng, thank Heaven you’re here – quickly, quickly!” they called out, their voices trembling.
A summons was supposed to be for questioning – so why did these eunuchs look and act so strangely?
Qin Hu frowned. Cheng Jiao-niang had already lifted her foot to step forward, and he instinctively reached out and grabbed her wrist.
Ban Qin jumped in fright.
This was in broad daylight, before the palace gates no less – and her lady was promised to Duke Jin’an!
She stepped up at once, ready to push Qin Hu aside.
“I feel like something’s wrong,” Qin Hu said.
Ban Qin froze in place.
Something was wrong again?
“Hurry, please hurry!” The eunuchs were hopping anxiously, reaching out as if to take Cheng Jiao-niang by the arms and drag her along.
Cheng Jiao-niang smiled and offered a courteous bow.
“It’s fine,” she said.
Qin Hu hesitated for a moment, then slowly released his grip – an unexpected sadness rising in his chest.
Why sadness? It felt as though releasing her now meant he might never see her again.
Ridiculous.
This was no time for pointless emotion. Marriage matters were trivial compared to—
Oh.
Marriage was trivial, wasn’t it…
Qin Hu felt a moment of clarity, followed immediately by a faint melancholy.
So that meant everything happening now truly was within her expectations? Which also meant…
No! Impossible!
It had nothing to do with her! And even if it did, it was only because Duke Jin’an had used her.
Qin Hu steadied his expression.
“Then go,” he said. “I’ll wait for you here.”
“Thank you, Young Master Qin, but there’s no need,” Cheng Jiao-niang replied.
“Just think of me as curious – waiting to hear the first-hand news,” Qin Hu said with a smile.
Cheng Jiao-niang bowed, but before she could speak, the eunuchs – no longer able to wait – grabbed her from both sides and hurriedly pulled her along.
It seemed something truly serious had happened.
Qin Hu frowned, but as he watched Cheng Jiao-niang being dragged away, he couldn’t help finding it a little funny.
Truly admirable – being yanked along like that by eunuchs, yet somehow still giving others the impression that she was walking with long, steady, confident strides.
A tense, stifling atmosphere hung over the palace. Everyone looked frightened, and the imperial guards stationed around them appeared even more imposing than usual, gripping their weapons tightly.
Those present were all veteran ministers of the court; many had lived through the transition between the previous emperor and the current one. Although today’s events were unprecedented and unimaginable, after the initial panic, they managed to calm down and began arranging matters in an orderly fashion.
Still, when they saw that girl approaching at an unhurried pace, the expressions of the imperial guards, eunuchs, and ministers at the palace front all revealed an unmistakable strangeness.
“Lady Cheng, come here and take a look first,” Chen Shao said.
Most people had already gone inside to watch over the Emperor; only he and a few minor officials remained here guarding Prince Ping.
Cheng Jiao-niang glanced at him. She showed no surprise at Chen Shao’s disheveled appearance and simply followed him into the side hall.
Everyone outside immediately perked up their ears, straining to listen.
Could this miracle-working Lady Cheng truly bring someone back from the dead?
This was a side chamber of the Hall of Diligent Governance, meant for ministers to rest in. The space was small, and now empty – except for a single person lying alone on the couch.
Chen Shao stopped walking, a complicated emotion rising in his chest.
“Lady Cheng… this is His Highness Prince Ping,” he said hoarsely.
His Highness?
At last, a change appeared on Cheng Jiao-niang’s usually expressionless face.
So this is Prince Ping.
She looked over, stepped forward, and stopped beside him. The surprise on her face deepened once more.
But to Chen Shao, it seemed less like surprise and more like – astonishment.
“Struck by lightning,” she murmured.
Struck… by lightning…
How interesting. How utterly unexpected.
This young man – who was supposed to ascend the throne next year, who was supposed to reign for forty-five years – was gone just like that.
History would never record his name.
Truly, the world had changed.
Heaven’s sincerity does not deceive.
Heaven does not deceive: when it said the Cheng clan would face annihilation, the Cheng clan was annihilated.
Heaven does not deceive: when it said things would change – they did change.
They really could change. They really did change.
Cheng Jiao-niang’s hands, held properly before her, slowly tightened.
Father, do you see? It really can change.
“Lady Cheng.”
Chen Shao raised his voice, unable to bear the expression on the girl’s face any longer.
It was the first time he realized this girl could display such a wealth of emotions.
It must be out of fear… right?
Cheng Jiao-niang turned to look at him, regaining her composure.
“I didn’t ask you here just to watch,” Chen Shao whispered urgently.
“Then why did you summon me, sir?” Cheng Jiao-niang asked.
Playing dumb again! Chen Shao gritted his teeth.
“Can he still be saved?” He pointed and asked.
Cheng Jiao-niang looked at him.
“Sir, what are you talking about?” she replied, slightly frowning.
“But you said you only treat those at death’s door,” Chen Shao said.
“Sir, I said ‘at death’s door,'” Cheng Jiao-niang replied, glancing at the unconscious Prince Ping – or rather, Prince Ping’s corpse – lying nearby. “Not the dead.”
At death’s door means still alive; the dead are already gone.
Prince Ping was gone, thoroughly gone. He had died instantly.
Chen Shao sighed inwardly. Of course he knew this – and so did everyone else. Why else would all the officials have rushed to the Emperor instead?
This Prince Ping was just a corpse now, meaningless and no longer worth currying favor with or protecting.
But this was Prince Ping – the Emperor’s only grown and healthy son.
What could be done…
It was over. Truly over…
“Minister Chen, Minister Chen!”
Outside the hall door came the urgent call of a eunuch.
“Her Majesty the Empress summons Lady Cheng.”
The Empress is summoning Lady Cheng?
Could it be that the Emperor…
Chen Shao’s heart began to pound violently, so much so that he felt breathless.
The Emperor could not afford any more trouble!
He must not have an incident at such a time!
Chen Shao hurried out.
“Master, the imperial doctors have already examined him and said that for now, there is no immediate danger. Her Majesty wishes to have Lady Cheng take a look as well,” the eunuch quickly whispered.
No immediate danger – for now.
Chen Shao’s ears buzzed, and he nodded stiffly.
No immediate danger was good – even if just for the moment.
“Sir, please hurry over as well,” a eunuch whispered to Chen Shao, his gaze involuntarily drifting toward the side hall.
The disgust, fear, and aversion in his eyes were unmistakable.
Just a moment ago, no one would have imagined that such a look could be directed at Prince Ping.
He was Prince Ping – the heir to the throne, the very sovereign they were about to bow to.
But in the blink of an eye, everything changed.
Prince Ping had become a corpse. What’s more, a corpse struck dead by lightning -whether it could even be buried with the honor of a prince’s title was now in question…
No wonder the eunuchs regarded it with such revulsion. It was truly…
Chen Shao opened his mouth, then closed it again, glancing back at the side hall.
Heaven and earth are unfeeling – to them, all things are but straw dogs.
“Let’s go,” he said, and stepped forward.
