Chapter Five: A Glimmer of Light in Despair

For the next two days, Shang Jiuya lived like a walking corpse.

She dared not easily try to communicate with the maids and guards in the palace anymore. Behind those indifferent or fearful eyes, she didn't know which deadly noose was attached. She only dared to eat a little of the food that looked least likely to be tampered with. Most of the time, she was in a state of semi-starvation. Her body recovered extremely slowly. In fact, due to the continuous mental stress and malnutrition, her face was even paler and more translucent than when she had just woken up.

She spent most of her time curled up on a soft couch by the window at the innermost part of the main bedroom. It was a huge window inlaid with irregular dark glass, from which she could not see the clear view outside, only a hazy, dim light, and the occasional distorted, eerie clouds unique to the demon realm.

She just hugged her knees, staring blankly out the window, her pupils actually unfocused.

My mind goes blank at times, filled with immense fear and despair; at other times it races wildly, with countless chaotic thoughts and fragmented memories colliding and trying to find a glimmer of hope, only to crash and burn each time.

Escape? Surveillance is everywhere; even getting close to the palace gates is difficult.

Help? From whom? From the scrutinizing gaze of the Second Elder, Lian Bo? From the indifferent glance of the Fifth Elder, Chang Dong? Why should they help this worthless puppet?

Resist? With what could she possibly resist? She was powerless and had no soldiers by her side.

Revealing poisoning? Where's the evidence? Who would believe that? They'd probably just get bitten back and die even faster.

A dead end. A complete and utter dead end.

She even began to understand why the original owner was so timid and submissive—in the face of such omnipresent malice and overwhelming power disparity, what else could she do but obey and pray?

She just hugged her knees, staring blankly out the window, her pupils actually unfocused.

His mind would sometimes go blank, filled with immense fear and despair; at other times, it would race wildly, a chaotic jumble of thoughts and fragmented memories. Occasionally, the image of Rong Jiang struggling in the River of Oblivion would flash through his mind, but then, he would see the figure of the Underworld Emperor from the later part of "The Glory of the Underworld," who rose from an ordinary little ghost to fight his way up and ultimately made the Underworld tremble.

A thought, like a faint spark, flashed briefly in the boundless darkness: Rong Jiang was initially just an unwanted, bullied brat, even forced to jump into the River of Oblivion, where countless souls gnawed at her… She struggled out of that desperate situation, ultimately rising to become the supreme Underworld Empress. And what about me? Am I really just destined to wait here to die?

But… Rong Jiang had her own opportunities, fueled by her hatred and defiance. What do I have? Shang Jiuya looked at her trembling hands in despair. I'm powerless, surrounded by spies and enemies, unable to even leave the palace, I don't even know which way to turn… What can I do? What can I possibly do?

A profound sense of powerlessness overwhelmed her once again, even more so than before.

She bit her lip hard, refusing to let the weak and anxious tears fall. She couldn't cry; no one would care if she did. It would only give those watching from the shadows a reason to laugh at her, even mocking her presumptuous and delusional thoughts.

But this forced endurance only intensified the tightness and suffocation in my chest.

She needs a little breathing space, even if it's just for a moment.

Suddenly, she stood up from the soft couch. Due to the sudden movement, a wave of dizziness washed over her, and she staggered, quickly grabbing the cold window frame to steady herself. She took a deep breath, trying to make her voice sound calm, and ordered into the empty hall, "I... want to go for a walk in the corridor to get some fresh air."

The two maids waiting in the distance exchanged a glance. One of them stepped forward and whispered, "Your Majesty, you are not yet fully recovered, and it's windy outside..."

“Just outside the hall in the corridor, not far.” Shang Jiuya interrupted her, her tone carrying a stubbornness she herself was unaware of.

The maid hesitated for a moment, but ultimately did not stop her, and simply followed silently a few steps behind her.

Shang Jiuya pushed open the heavy palace door, and a wind carrying the desolate aura unique to the Demon Realm immediately swept over her, causing her thin clothes to flutter and slightly clearing her muddled mind.

The corridor outside the Purple Light Palace was equally magnificent, with towering pillars carved with intricate magical patterns. Beyond the corridor was a meticulously maintained courtyard that still exuded an eerie demonic atmosphere, planted with many strange plants whose names she did not know, some dark and others excessively bright.

She wandered aimlessly along the corridor, with her maid following her at a fixed distance like a shadow.

The winding corridors led to some side halls and unnamed corners. The further one went, the fewer people there seemed to be, and the dimmer the light became, with only the faint glow provided by the eerie blue magic lamps embedded in the walls.

Her mood did not ease as she walked around; on the contrary, the depth and silence of the palace made her feel even heavier. Just when she was almost driven by this omnipresent oppression to retreat back to the equally suffocating bedchamber, a suppressed sob and a shout came from around the corner ahead.

Shang Jiuya stopped in her tracks.

The maid behind her also heard it, her brows furrowing slightly. She stepped forward and whispered, "Your Majesty, it seems to be some ignorant servants making a fuss. Let's not disturb Your Majesty's ears. We should..."

For some inexplicable reason, she ignored the maid's advice to turn and leave, and instead tiptoed cautiously toward the corner, holding her breath and peeking out.

Ahead lay an even more secluded, dark corner. Three maids, dressed far more elegantly than ordinary palace maids, were surrounding a thin, frail palace maid.

The young palace maid knelt on the ground, her figure pitifully thin, clutching a wooden tub tightly, her head bowed, her shoulders heaving from sobbing.

"Cry? You dare to cry?" One of the tall maids said shrilly, reaching out to snatch the wooden bucket from the little maid's arms. "You can't even clean a pillar properly, what use are you? This month's magic crystals are a waste in the hands of a good-for-nothing like you, you should give them to your older sisters!"

"That's right! Look at your unlucky appearance! You blocked Sister Lian's way, and it's already a mercy that you weren't made to kowtow and apologize, yet you still dare to cling to this broken wooden bucket?" Another round-faced maid chimed in, even lightly kicking the little palace maid's leg.

The tall maid, addressed as Sister Lotus, snatched the wooden bucket and tossed it aside with disdain. Looking down at the trembling palace maid on the ground, she sneered, "Those from the Twelfth Prince's palace are indeed all blind fools! No wonder His Highness so casually demoted them to this Purple Light Palace to do menial work! Be smart and hand over the magic crystals, or you'll suffer!"

The young palace maid trembled with fear, raising her tear-streaked face and pleading in a broken voice, "Please...please, sisters...that...that's all I have this month...I need to send it back to my mother..."

"Oh? There's a mother too? Then you should be more sensible. Don't you understand that losing money is better than losing something else?" Sister Lian sneered and reached out to grab the simple purse from the little palace maid's waist.

Shang Jiuya's breathing suddenly became rapid, her bullying undisguised.

Just for a few so-called magic crystals? Just for that laughable sense of superiority?

Some unpleasant and blurry fragments of the original owner's memories resurfaced—it seemed that when she was the insignificant Eleventh Prince, she had also been casually bullied and ridiculed by her more favored older siblings in the same way. That feeling of helplessness, grievance, and fear resonated with her with unparalleled clarity at this moment.

The moral values ​​and sense of justice of modern society were surging intensely within her.

Save her?

A voice screamed: "Mind your own business! You can't even protect yourself! Angry these maids who clearly have powerful backers will only bring you more trouble! Guan Shanyue's people warned you, if you cause trouble again, aren't you courting death?"

Another voice cried out weakly: But she's crying! She's so helpless! If no one helps her, what will become of her? Are you just going to stand by and watch? What's the difference between you and those cold-blooded bystanders, or even those who fuel the flames?

A fierce battle raged between immense fear and a remnant of goodness within her. Her fingers dug so hard into the cold pillars that her nails almost embedded themselves in the stone. Her body trembled slightly from tension and weakness.

Just as Sister Lian's hand was about to touch the little palace maid's purse, and the little palace maid let out a desperate sob—

Shang Jiuya didn't know where she got the courage from.

Perhaps it was the desperate cry, perhaps it was the way she looked being bullied that reminded her of her past self, or perhaps it was the release of the pent-up repression and fear she had been feeling for days.

She suddenly stepped out from around the corner, forcibly suppressing all her fear and trying to make her voice sound authoritative, "Stop! What are you doing?!"

The three bullying maids were startled, clearly not expecting anyone to come to this place, and even less expecting that it would be... her.

They turned around in a panic and saw Shang Jiuya standing not far away, trying her best to keep a straight face.

The leader, Sister Lian, reacted the fastest. She quickly withdrew her hand, put on a perfunctory smile, and slightly curtsied: "So it's Your Majesty. We've disturbed Your Majesty, but this lowly servant is clumsy and careless. We are currently teaching her manners."

The other two maids also quickly followed suit, their eyes darting away, but they showed little fear.

The little palace maid on the ground was also stunned, forgetting to cry, and opened her teary eyes wide.

Shang Jiuya's heart pounded like a drum, and her palms were covered in cold sweat. She forced herself not to look at the maids' provocative gazes, and instead focused her attention on the pitiful little palace maid, trying to keep her voice steady: "How dare you use torture in the palace? Get out of here!"

Sister Lian curled her lip slightly and bowed perfunctorily again: "His Majesty is right. Since His Majesty has spoken, we will let her off this time."

As she spoke, she gave a wink to the other two maids, and the three of them slowly straightened up. When they passed by Shang Jiuya, they didn't even glance at her again before leaving.

Only when their footsteps disappeared at the end of the corridor did Shang Jiuya finally let out a sharp sigh of relief. Her legs went weak, and she almost collapsed to the ground. She quickly grabbed the wall beside her, panting heavily, her clothes soaked with cold sweat.

A wave of fear washed over me like ice water.

She just... actually...

She couldn't imagine how she would have handled the situation if those maids had been any more assertive, or simply ignored her altogether.

"Thank... thank you, Your Excellency... for saving my life..." A choked voice startled her from her lingering fear.

Shang Jiuya lowered her head and saw that the little palace maid was still kneeling on the ground, kowtowing to her repeatedly.

Looking at that helpless figure, the regret that had risen in Shang Jiuya's chest due to lingering fear was suddenly replaced by a complex emotion.

Even if it's just unintentional, illuminating another firefly that's also stuck in the mud, it's still a good thing.