Chapter 55: Medicine Powder But, she is even more reluctant to part with herself

The day for the Autumn Festival is set on the ninth day of the ninth month.

The Double Ninth Festival, marked by ascending a height to offer sacrifices to the heavens, holds a profound meaning. The regulations presented by the Ministry of Rites were elaborate and solemn, meticulously adhering to every detail, from fasting and bathing to the regulations for sacrificial attire. Even within the Qingliang Hall, a newfound solemnity took hold, with palace maids and eunuchs holding their breath as they walked.

Xiao Lingjun insisted that Shen Zhiwei go with him.

A few days before the sacrifice, the Imperial Clothing Bureau sent her a special sacrificial garment. It was not the phoenix coronet and bridal robe customary for concubines, but an extremely solemn dark blue ceremonial robe with simple patterns, except for cloud patterns embroidered with silver thread on the cuffs. It was low-key yet noble. A matching jade headdress was also sent along with it.

Shen Zhiwei watched the palace maids carefully unfold the ceremonial garment. She said nothing, simply letting them try it on. The measurements were exact, as if they had been pre-measured. The figure reflected in the bronze mirror was dignified and solemn, so unfamiliar that even she felt a little startled.

Xiao Lingjun came over in the evening and saw her standing in front of the mirror in her sacrificial robes. He paused at the door and looked at her for a long time before slowly walking closer. He hugged her from behind and rested his chin on her shoulder.

"She looks great," he whispered, his arms clenched tightly around her. "Awei looks good in anything she wears."

Shen Zhiwei could feel the vibrations in his chest, the uneasiness and possessiveness that threatened to overflow. She looked at the overlapping figures in the mirror. He was wearing bright yellow casual clothes, which was completely inconsistent with her formal gown.

"Your Majesty, why go to so much trouble?" She was silent for a long time, and finally said helplessly, "It's just a set of sacrificial robes, just follow the regulations."

"According to what rules?" Xiao Lingjun chuckled, tilting his head to rub her earlobe, "My Ah Wei must wear something unique."

Being unique means being different, and it also means there is no turning back.

On the eve of the Autumn Festival, the palace was lit all night long, and the scent of sandalwood filled every room. After bathing and fasting, Shen Zhiwei sat alone by the window, watching the palace servants iron the final touches on the robes to be worn tomorrow.

She stretched out her hand and gently stroked the cool silk surface with her fingertips.

After tomorrow, this dress, this palace, and the man who stubbornly wanted to lock her by his side...maybe they will all become a thing of the past.

At the bottom of the dressing box, the small black bottle lay quietly.

It wasn't that she hadn't hesitated. Xiao Lingjun's treatment of her, besides that suffocating possessiveness, also contained genuine protection. She remembered the furrowed brows he'd used to review memorials, the dew-soaked chill on his body when he'd returned late at night, the vulnerability and dependence he'd occasionally displayed in front of her.

They are like family, but also like a couple.

But she was not a bird willing to be imprisoned in a golden cage. The wind and sand of the northern border, the fragrance of ink in the academy, and even the hustle and bustle of the market made her feel more comfortable than these four palace walls.

"Sir, it's getting late, you should rest." The palace maid reminded softly.

Shen Zhiwei came back to her senses, responded, and let the palace maid help her remove the hairpins and rings. When she lay down on the bed, she turned over and realized that her side was empty. Xiao Lingjun stayed in the Zhai Palace tonight as a sign of piety.

She kept her eyes open until the dim morning light appeared outside the window.

On the ninth day of the ninth month, before daybreak, the palace was already bustling with activity, with bells and drums ringing and solemn processions forming.

Shen Zhiwei put on the sacrificial attire, and the jade-green headdress made her complexion pale. The palace maids were particularly gentle and respectful as they adjusted her clothes.

Xiao Lingjun was already waiting outside the Zhai Palace. He was wearing Xuanduan sacrificial robes and looked solemn and dignified. When he saw her come out, his eyes lingered on her for a moment. He reached out to straighten out the non-existent wrinkles on her clothes. His fingertips paused at her collar, and finally just brushed past it lightly.

"Let's go."

The altar was set up at the Circular Mound in the southeast of the capital. Guards and palace servants knelt along the way as the imperial carriage passed through numerous palace gates. The carriage was spacious, with Xiao Lingjun sitting in the main seat and Shen Zhiwei at the side, a step's distance between them. They remained silent throughout the journey.

The Circular Mound Altar stood nine feet tall, its jade steps stacked one upon another, reaching up to the heavens. The sacrificial music was solemn and dignified, and officials lined up according to their ranks, in a hushed silence. Xiao Lingjun led the way, holding the jade tablet, while Shen Zhiwei followed half a step behind, his robe trailing the ground and his steps slow and ponderous.

Ascending to the altar, the cold wind whipped her clothes around. The ceremony of offering sacrifices to heaven was tedious and lengthy: burning wood, laying jade, offering sacrifices, reading prayers... Xiao Lingjun completed each step meticulously, her expression focused and pious.

Shen Zhiwei stood quietly aside, looking at his back, and suddenly remembered that many years ago in his previous life, when he was still the prince, he looked a little immature but equally serious at the ceremony of the previous emperor.

As the hours passed and the sun rose higher, the ritual drew to a close. The final act was to drink the sacrificial wine and receive the sacrificial offering, symbolizing the acceptance of heaven's blessing. The eunuch presented the sacrificial wine, which Xiao Lingjun accepted, turning and fixing his gaze on Shen Zhiwei.

According to etiquette, the emperor and empress should drink together at this moment. However, Shen Zhiwei was not the empress, and the Ministry of Rites had originally arranged for a prince from the imperial clan to do so. However, Xiao Lingjun, holding the wine cup, stepped forward to her.

The officials below the altar were slightly agitated, but no one dared to speak.

"Awei," he handed the wine cup to her, his voice carried into her ears through the whistling wind, "drink this cup with me."

She slowly stretched out her hand, and her fingertips touched the slightly cool body of the Duke.

Drink this cup with him.

By drinking it, she announced to the world that she and he shared this God-given blessing. From then on, their status was set and there was no turning back.

Shen Zhiwei lowered her eyelashes, watching the wine swaying slightly in the cup. She had originally planned to return to Qingliang Hall after the ceremony. It would be more secluded there, less noticeable. But now, under the watchful eyes of everyone, he was forcing her to make a choice.

Okay.

Right here, under the blue sky, in front of our ancestors and all the civil and military officials, let’s make it a conclusion.

She raised her eyes and met Xiao Lingjun's. There was undisguised expectation in his eyes. Shen Zhiwei suddenly felt a little ridiculous. He had gone to great lengths to lock her by his side, but now he was like a child asking for promises.

She curled the corners of her lips and gave him a very faint smile, just like the many days and nights in the past when she offered him hot tea when he was tired from reviewing memorials.

Xiao Lingjun was stunned, as if he hadn't expected her to laugh. Taking advantage of his momentary distraction, Shen Zhiwei slightly turned her wrist, letting the wide cuff fall, just enough to cover the movement of her other hand.

He reached his fingertips into the secret pocket of his sleeve, touched the porcelain bottle, and pulled out the cork.

Everything happened in a flash.

She brought the wine jug to her lips, pretending to drink, but her fingers in her sleeve quickly shook the powder from the bottle into the jug. The colorless and odorless powder instantly dissolved in the wine, leaving no trace.

Then she handed the wine cup back to Xiao Lingjun.

"Your Majesty, please go first." She said in a calm voice.

Xiao Lingjun gave her a deep look, then took the wine cup. Without hesitation, he tilted his head back and drank the wine in one gulp. His Adam's apple rolled as the wine entered his throat. He handed the empty cup to the eunuch beside him, his eyes never moving away.

The eunuch immediately brought another cup of wine.

Shen Zhiwei took it, and this time, she didn't do anything. She just looked at the clear wine, then raised her eyes, looked at the dark crowd under the altar, looked at the towering palace in the distance, and looked at the vast sky.

free.

She closed her eyes and drank the wine in the cup. The wine was spicy, sliding down her throat and into her stomach, turning into a boiling heat.

After the ceremony of drinking blessings and receiving sacrificial meat is completed, the bells and chimes will ring again and the sacrificial music will be played, announcing the completion of the sacrifice.

Xiao Lingjun stepped forward and took her hand. His palm was hot, and his breathing was a little rapid. He took her hand and turned to face the officials below the altar.

"The ceremony is over—" the ceremonial officer sang in a drawn-out voice.

The cheers of "Long live the emperor" surged like a tide, deafening.

Shen Zhiwei stood on the high altar. Xiao Lingjun held her hand and she felt the unusually hot temperature coming from his palm.

The medicine is starting to take effect.

It was just a tiny amount, enough to make him dazed for a moment, but not enough to really hurt him. She had calculated the dosage.

The carriage returning to the palace was even more solemn and quiet than when they came. Xiao Lingjun still rode with Shen Zhiwei, but as soon as he got in the carriage, he leaned back on the cushion, closed his eyes, frowned slightly, and his breathing was heavier than usual.

"Your Majesty?" Shen Zhiwei called him softly.

Xiao Lingjun slowly opened his eyes, his gaze somewhat unfocused, trying to focus on her face: "Ah Wei..." His voice was low and hoarse, with a strong sense of fatigue, "I... feel a little dizzy."

Shen Zhiwei leaned over and touched his forehead, feeling it blazing hot. The drug seemed to be more potent than she had expected, perhaps because he had been overworked recently and was already weak.

"You may be tired. Your Majesty, please take a rest. We will be back to the palace soon." Her heart tightened, and her voice softened. She straightened his crown, which was a little crooked, and quickly stood up to call the imperial physician.

Xiao Lingjun grabbed her hand and placed it against his cheek, greedily feeling the slight coolness: "Don't go... Ah Wei, stay with me."

"I am here." Shen Zhiwei let him hold her hand. The prosperous capital city, the cage that had trapped her for a long time, would soon be gone.

She had to do it, but she only felt guilty.

The carriage drove through the palace gate and directly arrived outside the Qingliang Palace. Xiao Lingjun was almost half-supported and half-carried out of the carriage by the eunuchs. His steps were unsteady, and fine cold sweat oozed from his forehead. His consciousness seemed a little fuzzy, but he still held Shen Zhiwei's hand tightly.

"Call the imperial physician!" Shen Zhiwei frowned and gave the order in a loud voice.

The palace servants were in a state of chaos. Some rushed to fetch the imperial physician, while others busied themselves preparing hot towels. Shen Zhiwei helped Xiao Lingjun lie down on the bed in the bedroom. His face was flushed, his breathing was rapid, and his lips were dry and chapped.

"Water..." he muttered vaguely.

Shen Zhiwei brought some warm water and carefully fed him a few sips. He had difficulty swallowing, and water stains flowed down the corners of his mouth. Shen Zhiwei gently wiped them away with a handkerchief.

The imperial physician arrived quickly. After taking your Majesty's pulse, his brow furrowed. "Your Majesty's pulse is tense and floating, suggesting a cold. Furthermore, due to the fatigue of the ritual, pathogenic qi has entered your system, causing fever and drowsiness. You must immediately administer dispersing medication and rest well."

Shen Zhiwei nodded: "I'll trouble you, the imperial physician, to prescribe a prescription."

She stayed by the bed, watching the palace maids busy themselves with boiling and feeding medicine. Xiao Lingjun would sometimes doze off, sometimes wake up with a start. Every time he opened his eyes, he would first look for her figure. Only when he saw her beside him would he close his eyes again with peace of mind.

As night fell, the Qingliang Palace was brightly lit. Xiao Lingjun's fever had subsided somewhat, but he remained groggy. Shen Zhiwei dismissed most of the palace servants, leaving only two trusted maids waiting outside.

The hall finally became quiet.

Shen Zhiwei sat on the footstool beside the bed, looking at the person on the couch. Xiao Lingjun's forehead was covered with cold sweat, and his lips were tightly pursed. Even in his sleep, he could not rest peacefully.

She reached out her hand and gently brushed his furrowed brow with her fingertips, trying to smooth out the wrinkles. He unconsciously rubbed her fingertips and uttered a vague mumbling.

"Awei...don't leave me..."

Shen Zhiwei's hand paused, his forehead slammed hard against the soft bed, his head buzzing.

She couldn't bear to see him sad, and couldn't bear to let him face the lonely throne alone.

But she couldn't bear to leave herself behind. Trapped in this golden cage for the rest of her life, like a bird with clipped wings, she would wither and die.

A short pain is worse than a long pain.

She took a deep breath, stood up, and walked to the dressing table. She opened the jewelry box and took out the black porcelain vase. The vase was cold, but it felt hot in her palm.

She poured out all the remaining powder, enough to kill her completely, then walked to the table and poured herself a cup of cold tea.

Pour the powder into the tea and stir gently with a silver hairpin. It is colorless and tasteless, dissolving into the clear tea soup without any noticeable difference.

She was silent for a long time.

He picked up the cup and drank it all in one gulp.

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The author has something to say: Write some lighthearted rankings of alcohol tolerance

Jingshu > Shen Zhiwei > Xiao Lingjun > Xie Mingxu > Shen Anyu > Xiao Wangqing > Seventeen

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