Dunyang City, Chenhui Palace. The palace was brightly lit, and the vast hall was filled with a strong medicinal fragrance, but it was empty.
Yun Zhang leaned against the ornately carved bed, his face as pale as paper and his cheeks sunken.
He sat leaning against the headboard, his face pale and sickly, looking at the empty Chenhui Palace. He glanced at the black-clad man kneeling below him with a self-deprecating smile, scoffed, and said coldly, "Speak, did you come to see if I've died yet?"
As the saying goes, even a starved camel is bigger than a horse. Even though Yun Zhang was plagued by illness, his influence remained.
Hearing his question, the man in black trembled slightly but remained kneeling, respectfully saying, "Your Highness, please calm your anger. I was merely following orders. The officials are worried because your condition has not improved, and the Empress's pregnancy is visibly growing. They fear that the Empress will abandon her son. Therefore, they have dared to ask Your Highness when you plan to launch your rebellion?"
"Heh, I've only been sick for a few months." Yun Zhang coughed lightly, slowly raised his hand, his slender fingers appearing unusually pale and weak due to his long illness, gently stroking the cold jade carving by the bedside, a self-deprecating smile curving his lips.
His gaze shifted downwards, landing on the figure kneeling upright, shrouded entirely in a black robe. A complex mix of emotions surged within his deep eyes—disgust, disdain, and a hint of barely perceptible ruthlessness.
"Are those old guys really that impatient?!"
He suddenly raised his hand, and the medicine bowl beside the bed was swept to the ground with a "clatter." Unfinished, bitter medicine remained on it, and the brown liquid splattered across the floor.
The man in black stiffened, beads of sweat forming on his forehead, but he dared not move an inch. He could only prostrate himself on the ground even more humbly, awaiting the next punishment or instruction from the sickly prince.
“Your Highness, I have no choice in this matter,” the man in black said in a low voice. “The officials are getting impatient. They are worried that once the Empress gives birth to a prince, your position will be in jeopardy.”
A hint of mockery flashed in Yun Zhang's eyes. He slowly closed them, seemingly deep in thought. A moment later, he opened his eyes, his gaze sharp as a knife.
“Tell them that I have my own plans.” Yun Zhang’s voice was weak, but it carried an undeniable authority. “Tell them not to act rashly; the time is not yet ripe.”
The man in black was slightly taken aback, then nodded in agreement. He understood Yun Zhang's temperament; once he made a decision, he would never easily change it.
"Yes, I will go back and report immediately." The man in black stood up, bowed respectfully, and then turned to leave.
"Wait." Yun Zhang suddenly spoke, and the man in black stopped and turned around.
“Tell them that I will recover soon,” Yun Zhang said with a hint of coldness in his voice. “Tell them not to forget that my sword is still sharp.”
The man in black nodded slightly, bowed again, and then quickly disappeared into the night.
Yun Zhang looked at the empty hall, a trace of weariness flashing in his eyes.
After a long while, he finally lay down again, closed his eyes, and tried to get some rest. Those words had almost exhausted all his strength.
As outsiders have said, he is indeed terminally ill.
The once mighty and powerful Prince Yi, Yunzhang, is now nothing more than a spent force.
However, the one who started this predicament was none other than himself.
Yun Zhang's face was gently outlined by the dim, yellowish light in the hall, yet it could not conceal his deep weariness and despair. Beneath his skin, bluish veins were faintly visible, and each breath was exceptionally difficult.
Suddenly, a violent coughing fit erupted in the hall, as if it were tearing his internal organs apart.
Yun Zhang's body began to tremble violently. He clenched his teeth, his hands forming fists so that his nails dug deep into his palms, but all of this could not alleviate the immense pain his body was enduring. Each breath felt like a sharp blade churning in his chest, making it almost impossible for him to breathe.
"Zhi...Zhi..." He forced out the name through clenched teeth, but his voice was drowned out by endless pain. At that moment, he felt as if he were in a dark abyss, with no way out.
Outside, snowflakes, as large as goose feathers, began to fall. They fluttered and danced in the air like countless white butterflies. They drifted down lightly, twirled, and finally settled silently on the eaves, branches, and the magnificent palace.
The soft, pattering sound of falling snow drowned out the painful groans of those inside the palace.
In the silence, Yun Zhang's consciousness gradually faded. He seemed to see a figure dressed in magnificent palace attire, walking towards him on the light snow.
The footsteps grew closer, crisp and loud, as if striking a chord in his heart. Yun Zhang struggled to open his eyes, trying to make out the figure, but all he saw was a vast expanse of white snowflakes.
He reached out, trying to grab the figure, but found his hand hanging limply at his sides.
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