Emperor Yongchang gave the final word: “Have the Ministry of Rites and the Court of State Ceremonial consult together. Approve the marriage alliance with our dynasty’s princess. All ceremonial matters shall be jointly drafted by the Ministry and the Court, and finalized by the Cabinet!”
Princess Mingcheng was precocious, but not so precocious that she understood what a political marriage meant. She thought it was just getting married.
Getting married didn’t seem like a big deal—after all, her Royal Mother used to talk about it every day, saying her elder sister couldn’t keep being so willful and playful, and that sooner or later she’d have to get married.
Since even Royal Father was agreeing to let her sister marry, didn’t that mean things were okay now?
She was a little happy—but that happiness faded quickly when she thought about her mother’s death. Her heart ached.
Baorong, on the other hand, didn’t even have the strength to feel grief anymore.
As someone from the modern era, she understood better than anyone what kind of place Japan was.
A nation perverse and without bottom lines.
The Japan that corresponded to this Great Zhou era was a period of complete lawlessness, where great lords fought each other in endless chaos.
In Japan, women were not seen as human.
Even in modern times, women of the Emperor’s household were mentally tortured by the Imperial Household Agency; being a housewife was still the most common path for women.
So what about ancient times?
Going to Japan would be worse than death.
And yet, at this point, she no longer pleaded for herself.
In truth, there was one way she was very much like Qi Yuan—
Neither of them wasted energy on things that had no possible outcome.
Having reached the edge of a cliff, she might as well let herself fall.
Qi Wang kept kowtowing—again and again, until he was nearly unconscious from it.
But this time, Emperor Yongchang did not soften. He kicked Qi Wang and said coldly, “I will have the Ministry of Rites swiftly select a Wangfei for you. After the wedding, you will get out of the capital and go to your fiefdom. Without an imperial summons, you are never to return!”
For so many years, Qi Wang had lived under the shelter of favor and indulgence.
Being sent to his fief—for a prince so favored—was equivalent to being stripped of any hope of succession.
He collapsed to the ground, unable to take any more, and fainted.
Emperor Yongchang was already thoroughly exhausted. In a single day, he had lost two people he loved deeply.
He had also lost a daughter—and a son.
He looked at Xiao Mo and said to Liu Wangfei, “I have failed you. Take good care of Mo’er. I will come visit you both often.”
Liu Wangfei actually wanted to say there was no need, but in the end, she only nodded.
Emperor Yongchang then picked up Princess Mingcheng in his arms and took Yongrong by the hand. “Come. I’ll take you to see your mother.”
The older children had caused too much worry, but the little ones were innocent.
They had lost their mother. And now, even the older siblings who had always been with them would be leaving the capital.
As for the Crown Prince—utterly careless and indifferent—he didn’t look like someone who would take care of these little ones.
The Emperor sighed deeply, then suddenly called out, “Yunting, come with me.”
Xiao Yunting was named and responded immediately without hesitation. After a brief glance exchanged with Qi Yuan, he followed the Emperor.
As Emperor Yongchang left the hall with him, the palace attendants, sensing his foul mood, silently followed behind.
Seeing the Emperor holding Princess Mingcheng in one arm and leading Yongrong with the other, looking visibly strained, Xiao Yunting naturally stepped forward and picked up Yongrong.
But Yongrong looked at Xiao Yunting with some hostility, struggling and flailing, demanding to be put down.
Emperor Yongchang watched Xiao Yunting’s reaction coldly.
But Xiao Yunting showed no impatience at all. Smiling, he hoisted Yongrong up a little higher and said, “Good boy, you’ve got some strength in you.”
Technically speaking, Xiao Yunting was supposed to call Yongrong uncle, but Yongrong was still much younger than him. Yongrong still tried to push him away, but Xiao Yunting suddenly tossed him lightly into the air, making the boy let out a sharp squeal.
Then Xiao Yunting caught him steadily and gently asked, “Want to go again?”
Boys were always easy to please. They admired strength and liked playing with older kids or adults.
And luckily, Xiao Yunting had always been a very patient person.
Emperor Yongchang said in a mild tone, “You really don’t take things to heart.”
His words held a double meaning, and Xiao Yunting understood them at once. He replied calmly, “Imperial Grandfather, I’ve never borne any grudge against Noble Consort and her children. Besides, the innocent shouldn’t suffer. What crime have these young ones committed? They’re still my uncles and aunts, after all.”
As if he wasn’t the same person who’d just spoken words that forced Baorong into a political marriage.
Emperor Yongchang nodded. “You’ve done well.”
This one sentence made Eunuch Xia, standing nearby, deeply comforted—after all, the Crown Prince had never received such praise!
Meanwhile, Liu Wangfei took the weeping Xiao Mo away to rest.
Qi Yuan tried to find a chance to apologize. After all, she had used Liu Wangfei’s experience to make her the vanguard, the knife that struck first.
She could use tactics—but not without limits. Not against everyone.
To her, sincerity was precious.
Even the smallest bit of it shouldn’t be exploited.
She felt incredibly guilty. But Liu Wangfei took her hand and gave her a gentle smile: “You don’t need to say it—I already know. Yuanyuan, you’re truly the best girl in the world. I should be the one thanking you. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have lived to see this day—I would’ve been hunted down and killed sooner or later. If not for you, I wouldn’t have been reborn, wouldn’t have escaped with Ah Mo from all the chaos.”
She softly patted Qi Yuan’s hand. “So don’t feel guilty about ‘using’ me. I was willing. I chose to let you use me.”
Up to this point in her life, no one had ever said something like that to her.
Everyone said she was ruthless and arrogant, unwilling to bow her head.
Only Liu Wangfei—someone she had only known for a few short days—looked at her gently and said she was the best girl in the world.
Qi Yuan pressed her lips together—and without warning, a single tear slipped down.
She quickly wiped it away.
After a few comforting words, Liu Wangfei walked away with Xiao Mo.
The Eldest Princess and Princess Consort Lu also left to check on Lu Jintang.
Qi Zhen and Old Marquis Qi took up temporary defense duties, leading men out to patrol.
At that moment, Qi Yuan remained standing in place—when Qi Wang rose unsteadily from the ground and looked at her.
This time, he didn’t yell or scream, didn’t rage as though his life were ending.
He only asked, stubbornly, “Why?”
What was wrong with him?
In what way was he inferior to Xiao Yunting?
In their past life, he had treated her so well, offering everything short of the Empress position—so why had she still killed him?
And in this life, why was she again so merciless, without hesitation?
He pressed her coldly: “I loved you so much, and you didn’t cherish it. A woman like you is heartless and ungrateful. You’ll never have a good end!”
Qi Yuan let out a cold laugh, turned to face him and said, “You loved me? So you killed Xie Ying? Killed Madam Xie, who treated me like her own daughter?! You loved me, so you used Xie Ying’s younger brother’s life to force me into marrying you as your side consort? A man like you—who has no ability to love anyone—how dare you speak of love?”
Qi Wang took a step forward. Qi Yuan immediately raised the wrist crossbow in her sleeve.
“If you’re so eager not to die in your fief,” she said coldly, “I don’t mind sending you off right now.”
