After Lai Chenglong had finished cleaning up the corpses, he deliberately walked along the narrow path, squinting up at the steep cliff face.
Qi Yuan had planned to climb up that way to kill Princess Baorong.
Had she succeeded?
Hopefully she hadn’t fallen halfway. If she had, there was no way to survive a fall into this ravine.
He was filled with worry and only came back to his senses when Chunlin arrived. He asked, “Everything arranged?”
Chunlin followed his gaze to the cliff wall, and couldn’t help clutching his neck and exclaiming, “Good heavens! Miss Qi planned to climb up from here?”
What kind of monster was she?
Kills without blinking, never hesitates.
Now she could scale walls too? If she could really climb up from here, then in her past life she must’ve been a gecko!
Lai Chenglong shot him a glare.
Chunlin immediately shut up and got back to business: “Don’t worry, Lord, it’s all been taken care of. Nothing will go wrong.”
Still, what he was most curious about was whether Miss Qi had actually made it up there.
But they didn’t have to wonder long. Soon Chunsheng came down from the mountain and delivered the news: Princess Baorong was dead.
Chunlin sucked in a sharp breath.
A savage!
Honestly, they’d seen some pretty brutal stuff as Embroidered Uniform Guard, but still…
After killing so many people, Miss Qi actually climbed that cliff, and once she got up there, she still had to kill—and it was…
Chunlin couldn’t help lowering his voice and whispered to Lai Chenglong, “Sir, maybe you should be a bit more polite to Miss Qi from now on.”
Because if she ever turned her blade around and came for their lord, who could stop her?
Lai Chenglong’s expression grew complicated.
Chunlin muttered again in a low voice, “Though even if you’re polite, don’t take it too far. If you married Miss Qi, you’d have to treat her like an ancestor. And if you ever dared take a concubine, wouldn’t she just chop both of you into eight or nine pieces?”
Lai Chenglong smacked him on the back of the head. “You’re getting more outrageous by the minute!”
He did want to marry her—but dare he?
Never mind whether Miss Qi herself was willing—anyone with eyes could see what His Highness felt for her.
How many heads did he have, to think about stealing her from His Highness?
Qi Yuan had no idea what others were thinking about her. Even if she knew, she wouldn’t care.
She waited in the side hall for a long time. Only when Xiao Yunting left the mountain first with Cuizheng and the commander of the Imperial Guards—and the mountain security was more relaxed—did Babao arrive.
Babao ran a few steps toward her when he saw her. “Miss Qi, you’ve waited a long time, haven’t you? I grabbed some rice cakes from the kitchen…”
Liujin couldn’t take it anymore—Babao was acting like a total bootlicker.
Ever since Babao found out that Qi Yuan had killed Huailiang Qin Wang and Princess Baorong, his opinion of her had changed from “backstabber” to “she’s basically a deity.”
Liujin couldn’t stand the sight of it. He strode over, grabbed Babao by the back of the collar, and said calmly to Qi Yuan, “Miss Qi, you can head down the mountain now. His Highness says not to worry—he’ll take care of the rest.”
Qi Yuan gave Babao a look but didn’t waste words. She simply gave a light “mm” and said to him, “Lend me your horse.”
Babao instantly sobered up.
He looked at her warily. “What are you going to do?”
Killing Princess Baorong had been satisfying, sure—but cleaning up after it wasn’t easy for His Highness either.
Miss Qi wasn’t planning to go kill Qi Wang next, was she?
By now, Qi Wang had already received the news of Princess Baorong’s death.
His lips were trembling violently, his entire body shaking uncontrollably.
It wasn’t fear—it was rage.
That kind of powerless, helpless rage.
He had thought that with this second life, he could achieve his goals faster—even tame the wild and unyielding Qi Yuan from his past life and make her his.
But no. None of it came true.
On the contrary, even Duke Chu’s household and his Royal Mother were dead now.
And not just them—now Baorong was dead too.
Did Qi Yuan really have to wipe them all out?
She didn’t have a shred of conscience. If she had even a little, she wouldn’t have taken things this far!
Eunuch Xu gently tried to console him: “Your Highness, this is not the time for sorrow.”
For the first time, Qi Wang looked at his most trusted aide with complete seriousness. His entire body was cold as he said in a low voice, “I must be next.”
That woman—she was like that. If she acted, it was all or nothing.
She killed Baorong. That means he’s next.
Eunuch Xu gripped Qi Wang’s hand tightly. “Your Highness, that’s why you must think for yourself. Go plead with His Majesty. Stay close to him, and look for the right moment—ask to be sent to your fief.”
If he stayed in the capital, someone would eventually find a way to eliminate him.
Qi Wang’s expression was unpleasant, but he quickly came to his senses.
Yes. He had to run—fast.
But Emperor Yongchang had no time to see him. Because the moment he saw that letter, he flew into a furious rage.
No parent in the world wants to admit they’ve failed as a parent—much less admit their own child hates them.
Emperor Yongchang had always believed himself to be a good father.
Especially toward Princess Baorong—he had given her everything. Even after she made a grave mistake, he still gave her a second chance. He hadn’t wanted to take her life—he only arranged a marriage alliance.
Even then, he had ordered the Ministry of Rites to prepare lavish carriages and escorts, to ensure she could live comfortably even in a foreign land.
And this ungrateful child—
After admitting her fault on the surface, she turned around and wrote that letter, then hanged herself.
If word got out, wouldn’t the whole world say that he, as a father, was cold-hearted—so much so that he forced his own daughter to death?
Outrageous!
Outrageous!
Xiao Yunting knelt down, pleading with him to calm his fury: “Royal Grandfather, this is not the time to grieve—Princess Baorong’s funeral arrangements…”
Emperor Yongchang suddenly snapped back to himself and gave a cold laugh.
Then he said icily, “Princess Baorong isn’t dead. What funeral?”
Cuizheng opened his mouth to speak.
Was His Majesty mad with anger?
She was dead—completely, undeniably dead. How could she not be?
But then he immediately understood what the Emperor meant.
Princess Baorong was meant to marry into a foreign land. If her death were announced now, wouldn’t it send the message to the Eastern Kingdom that she’d rather die than go through with the marriage—that she had used death to defy the court and the Emperor’s decision?
Emperor Yongchang gripped the letter tightly, then tossed it into the charcoal brazier. Only after watching it burn to ash did he look coldly at Cuizheng and say, “Seal every mouth. If even a word of the princess’s death leaks out—I’ll make an example of you!”
This was all for the greater good. Cuizheng quickly bowed and responded, “Yes, Your Majesty.”
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