Gao Lingjun was knocked unconscious by an official hat, Chen Shao hanged himself, and the overall situation was settled.
“Traitor! Traitor! Arrest the traitor!”
The Empress Dowager was still screaming.
But her words, much like her solitary figure standing beneath the corridor, went ignored.
“The traitors have been executed,” the Empress said. “Quickly, escort the Empress Dowager back to her palace to rest.”
Palace attendants immediately stepped forward and, without another word, lifted the Empress Dowager. When it came to silencing someone who had lost composure, these attendants had plenty of methods. The already agitated and hysterical Empress Dowager was suddenly muffled, nearly fainting on the spot, but no one paid any heed to her condition now.
The attendants then entered the Crown Prince’s chamber, took down Chen Shao’s body, and carried it out.
“Minister Zhang, my apologies for taking your hat without permission,” Duke Jin’an said, turning to Zhang Chun.
Zhang Chun wore a solemn expression and bowed respectfully.
“Your Highness, to have an official hat used to strike down a treacherous traitor is an honor for the hat itself,” he said.
Treacherous traitor – thus was Gao Lingjun defined.
Indeed, at this point, even if Gao Lingjun possessed the most silver-tongued eloquence, it would be futile. Since Duke Jin’an dared to storm the palace with soldiers and cannons, he was already determined to succeed.
And indeed, that was precisely what he did. Regardless of what anyone had to say, he simply knocked them unconscious to prevent them from speaking.
“Crown Prince…”
With these words, the Empress lifted her sleeve to cover her face and wept, rushing toward the Crown Prince’s chamber.
The court officials followed, their voices choked with sobs as they entered.
The Crown Prince’s chamber was narrow and simply furnished, without any decorations. Aside from the sleeping platform, there were no stools or tables to be found.
Whether due to the earlier chaos, the room appeared disheveled. Stains marred the floor, and the air carried a foul, decaying stench – the reek of excrement and urine.
How could such a filthy odor linger in the residence of the esteemed Crown Prince?
How had those in charge of his care been tending to him?
Was it because the Crown Prince was a fool – unaware and unable to speak?
Even at the bedside of the long-ill, filial piety can wane. A person of diminished intellect, even if he were the Crown Prince, could still be neglected by lowly servants.
Unable to restrain themselves, the court officials lifted their gazes toward the sleeping platform.
There lay the corpulent Crown Prince, resting peacefully. In truth, few among them had seen the Crown Prince often, and his current appearance had faded from memory. Their deepest impressions remained of him before his injury – the clever, lively young prince they used to encounter frequently in the palace.
He would greet them with respectful bows, share cheerful laughter, and even offer them his own snacks when they waited too long for an audience, much like a caring grandchild or junior from their own families.
This was a bright and kind-hearted child.
“…His Highness was given an aphrodisiac… he drank it every day…”
“…His Highness became so agitated he couldn’t rest, so they gave him sedatives – to quiet him, to calm him, to make him sleep…”
Two eunuchs lay prostrate on the ground, sobbing as they confessed.
Heavens, an aphrodisiac – for a child so young…
The court officials’ forced weeping turned genuine – not for the Crown Prince, but for a pitiable child, a poor boy born into the imperial family, a wounded soul who met such a wretched end.
Loud wails filled the chamber.
Yet Duke Jin’an remained outside the moon gate, never stepping inside. He simply stood there, gazing within.
Liu Ge’er, I have come to see you.
Liu Ge’er, I… regret it.
I regret it deeply.
…
“Your Majesty, please restrain your grief.”
After a moment of intense weeping inside the Crown Prince’s chamber, a minister began to offer words of consolation.
Palace attendants also stepped forward, kneeling to comfort her.
The Empress wiped her tears and gradually stopped crying, and the court officials followed suit. Once the weeping subsided, the atmosphere in the room seemed to ease slightly.
“Let the Crown Prince’s funeral rites proceed according to established protocol,” the Empress said.
“We humbly obey Your Majesty’s command,” the court officials replied, bowing their heads.
The Empress lifted her sleeve once more to cover her face.
This time, however, the court officials did not join her in weeping. Many exchanged glances, and the atmosphere in the room grew subtly restless.
“Your Majesty, dawn approaches. Let us deliberate on how to handle tonight’s events,” Zhang Chun spoke up.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” the ministers quickly echoed. “We request Your Majesty to change locations.”
This was clearly not the proper place for serious discussion.
“Where would be appropriate to move?” the Empress asked hesitantly.
“His Majesty remains present.”
A voice spoke slowly.
Everyone hurriedly turned toward the sound and saw Duke Jin’an standing at the moon gate.
“Such a grave incident has occurred within the palace. Even though His Majesty is unconscious, he should be informed,” he continued, his gaze fixed on the Crown Prince lying on the sleeping platform.
The Empress nodded immediately.
“That is indeed appropriate,” she said.
Naturally, the court officials did not object. They rose at once and clustered around the Empress as she prepared to move.
Just as she was about to step out, the Empress noticed something and turned back. She saw Duke Jin’an stepping toward the Crown Prince’s chamber.
“Duke Jin’an,” she quickly called out, “please join us.”
While discussing how to handle Gao Lingjun, Chen Shao, the Empress Dowager, and others was one matter, the more important issue was deliberating on the imperial succession.
At such a critical moment, his presence seemed essential.
Duke Jin’an shook his head.
“This is both a family matter and a court matter,” he said. “As a family affair, the Empress is present. As a court affair, the officials are present. I shall not go.”
With that, he continued inside.
“I wish to stay a while longer with Liu Ge’er.”
Liu Ge’er – not the Crown Prince.
You have already mourned the Crown Prince. Now it is only Liu Ge’er – not a prince, not an heir, just his brother.
The Empress’s expression softened briefly before she let out a sigh.
…
“Your Highness!”
In a side hall, two attendants watched Cheng Jiao-niang’s movements and couldn’t help but cry out.
“You mustn’t pull it out!”
They supported Zhou Fu, watching as Cheng Jiao-niang ahead of them paused and walked, then paused again. They were growing frantic, beginning to suspect that the woman had gone mad from grief, when she finally stopped.
“The Gate of Life is here,” she said, pointing forward.
The Gate of Life? What gate was that?
Then they were led to this side hall, its purpose unknown to them.
Torches were lit, and Zhou Fu was laid down, his wounded chest exposed.
Only the fletching of an arrow was visible on his chest.
“…Fortunately, the distance was somewhat far, and it didn’t penetrate completely,” one of the attendants said.
Otherwise, he could not have held on until now.
Cheng Jiao-niang said nothing. She reached out and grasped the fletching, as if intending to pull the arrow out, startling the two attendants to their very souls.
“Madam, you cannot do this!”
“If this is pulled out, he will surely die,” they exclaimed, unable to help but stare at Cheng Jiao-niang.
Was this truly the legendary divine doctor?
Cheng Jiao-niang released her grip.
“Do you have a knife?” she asked.
The two attendants nodded hurriedly, drawing the blades from their waists.
“Madam, let us first cut away the clothing. You give the order, and we will pull…” one attendant said, kneeling beside Zhou Fu as he spoke.
Before he could finish, Cheng Jiao-niang took the knife with one hand, flicked her wrist, and plunged the blade downward.
A soft thud sounded, and blood instantly spurted out.
A man’s cry of alarm echoed through the side hall.
“Step aside!” Cheng Jiao-niang shouted, pivoting on her feet. With swift, precise movements, she struck three times in succession with the knife, then reached out and pulled the arrow free.
The cries of alarm intensified.
The two attendants, splattered with blood across their faces and clothes, stared at Cheng Jiao-niang in terror.
Was this an attempt to save a life, or outright murder?
As blood gushed forth, Zhou Fu, who had been lying still, began to convulse.
“Madam!” the two attendants shouted.
Cheng Jiao-niang appeared not to hear them. She did not drop the knife in her hand. Instead, with a toss of her head that sent her long hair flying, she reversed her grip and slashed the blade through her own hair.
Strands fell like rain, spreading across the floor.
She’s gone mad…
The two attendants stared in stunned disbelief.
Why was she cutting off all her hair?
“Mad–” they started to call out, snapping back to reality as they rose.
“Stay where you are. Do not move,” Cheng Jiao-niang commanded.
In the flickering light of two torches, the girl’s steps were chaotic yet carried an eerie rhythm, her figure swaying and the knife flashing like a specter.
The two attendants recalled that night when the Princess Consort went alone to assassinate Gao Shi’si-lang, and how none of her followers had dared to accompany her – solely because she had uttered the command: “Do not follow.”
At the time, they had found it unbelievable. But now, hearing the girl’s sharp command, they froze involuntarily, not daring to move again.
Blood continued to flow, strands of hair still scattered. The two attendants knelt rigidly to the side, their expressions numb.
If she had gone mad, then so be it – after all, there was no hope for the man anyway.
But they were mistaken. This was not the end, only the beginning.
The girl finally stopped moving. Her long hair, which had once reached the ground, was now cut short to her shoulders. She did not discard the knife. Instead, gripping the blade with both hands, she knelt before Zhou Fu and began to rub her hands together.
Rubbing her hands…
Rubbing her hands!
The two attendants snapped back to reality in shock, staring wide-eyed as blood dripped steadily from the girl’s hands.
Blood!
At some point, without realizing it, their hands had clenched together, as if only by doing so could they suppress the screams threatening to erupt.
Heavens, she had truly gone mad!
Pain, unbearable pain!
That was a knife! A blade! Those were hands – flesh and blood hands!
They stared fixedly at the woman’s hands. In their vision, everything was stained crimson. Whether by illusion or not, the blood gushing from Zhou Fu’s body seemed to lessen.
The knife was lifted again. Surely this had to be the end now?
Watching those already mutilated and bloodied hands, the two attendants remained stunned. Then the glint of the blade flashed once more.
“Madam!”
This time, the two attendants leaped to their feet in terror.
“Please, stop!”
Clothing was cut open, and blood gushed from her shoulder. The girl looked at them, her expression blank, her eyes pitch-black, as though the wounds inflicted were not on her own body but on someone else’s.
Heavens, heavens, what is she doing? Help! Someone, help!
“Do not move,” she commanded.
The two attendants froze, their bodies half-risen as they watched the girl wield the knife upon herself, stroke after stroke. The sight of blood spraying before them pushed them to the brink of collapse.
A low chant began to echo and swirl in the air around them, its eerie melody somehow soothing their frayed nerves.
“…My dwelling lies in the mulberry grove…”
“…The spirits hear and know…”
“…I offer my hair, cut away…”
“…I offer my hands, ground and worn…”
“…With my body, I pray and beseech…”
