It was almost dawn, and the first rooster crowed faintly in the distance.
Inside the tent of the Fourth Prince Xinyi Zigu, candlelight was still bright as daylight. The air was filled with a strong smell of blood, the bitterness of ointment, and an extremely suppressed frenzy.
Jiang Yuyao was like a lifeless puppet, kneeling beside Xinyi Zigu's bed with her head lowered, not daring to make a sound.
Her uncle Lord Yang and his son Yang Weimin stood solemnly by the side. Both father and son had ashen faces, and a cloud of gloom shrouded the entire tent.
Xinyi Zigu had been awake for a long time. The imperial physician's tranquilizing decoction seemed to have lost its effect. The excruciating pain in his left eye, piercing deep into his bones, grew in intensity, like countless red-hot steel needles piercing and stirring him repeatedly. He could not sleep at all, only to suffer in this endless agony. Rage and despair mingled, burning away his sanity. He angrily swept every cup, bowl, and vessel within reach from the bedside table to the floor, the shattering sound piercing and jarring.
He raised his hand tremblingly, intending to touch the left eye wrapped in thick gauze, but his fingertips suddenly retracted the moment they were about to touch, as if burned by an invisible flame. The flickering candlelight reflected on his twisted and hideous face. In his intact right eye, venomous hatred and madness surged.
"Uncle!" His hoarse voice was like sandpaper scraping against the ground, and every word was poisonous. "I want Xin Yiwei... to suffer a fate worse than death! I want him... to be cut into pieces!"
Lord Yang took a deep breath, suppressed the turbulent waves in his heart, took a step forward, and said in a low and solemn voice with a determination to burn his boats: "Don't worry, Your Highness! This hatred is irreconcilable! I... will make him pay a hundred times the price! The most important thing for you now is to take good care of yourself! Everything depends on human efforts. As long as you are still alive, you... still have a chance!" He didn't finish his words, but everyone in the tent knew it well - there were one-eyed kings in history books!
Outside the tent, an unusual noise came from far away, breaking the silence of the camp.
Lord Yang's eyes sharpened, and he winked at his son. Yang Weimin understood and quietly lifted the curtain to leave. A moment later, he returned to the tent, his expression even more gloomy. He whispered in Xinyi Zigu's ear, "The men who were looking for the Crown Prince and Princess Jiaqing have returned... They've found them, safe and sound. The Emperor has summoned all the imperial physicians to the main tent."
Jiang Yuyao, who had been keeping her head down and keeping silent, suddenly raised her head. A trace of jealousy and disappointment that was difficult to conceal flashed across her eyes for a moment, but she quickly concealed it and put on a worried look. Her voice was timid and full of deliberate concern: "Sister Songyi...actually and His Royal Highness the Crown Prince...did not come back all night? It even alarmed the imperial physician...I wonder if she...is okay?" The vicious expectation in her heart almost burst through her throat.
Yang Weimin glanced at her coldly, his tone carrying a subtle hint of sarcasm: "If the Concubine is so concerned about me, why not go and visit me in person? It would also show the deep sisterly love."
Upon hearing this, Jiang Yuyao's gaze immediately turned to Xinyi Zigu, questioning him with a subtle hint of urgency. Xinyi Zigu, tormented by gnawing pain and overwhelming hatred, had no intention of responding to her subtle thoughts. He waved his hand, his voice impatient, "Go ahead, Yuyao. You and she are sisters after all, so it's a good idea to go and see her. I have something important to discuss with my uncle..."
"Thank you, Your Highness, for your grace." Jiang Yuyao immediately stood up and bowed respectfully, her drooping eyelashes hiding the fleeting glint in her eyes. She turned and briskly exited the tent filled with blood and rancor, heading quietly towards the brightest spot—the emperor's main tent.
…
The attendants retreated silently like a tide, and the heavy tent curtains fell, shutting out the outside noise and light. The tent was instantly shrouded in a stagnant, conspiratorial silence. The flickering candlelight cast a swaying shadow in Xinyi Zigu's single eye, making his remaining eye seem even more filled with sinister venom.
"They're incredibly lucky," he said in a low, frosted voice, each word squeezed out between his teeth. "That idiot Xinyi Daoyi, and that bitch Jiang Songyi...they actually managed to come back alive!"
Lord Yang (Concubine Yang's brother and the Fourth Prince's uncle) felt his heart sink, his eyelids twitching uncontrollably. With no one else inside the tent, he tore through the thin veil of monarchy and subjectivity and bluntly asked the question weighing on everyone's heart: "Your Highness, was the assassination of the Crown Prince and Princess Jiaqing... yours?"
"Yes!" Xinyi Zigu didn't hold back, slamming his fist down on the low table beside him, making the cups and glasses clink. He seemed to recall his father's disappointed and cold eyes in the imperial study, and the humiliation instantly ignited his rage. "Xinyi Daoyi! Who the hell is he? A useless person who relies on drugs to stay alive! It's a waste for him to occupy the position of crown prince, so he might as well give it up sooner rather than later! As for Jiang Songyi..." He sneered, his smile twisted and full of resentment. "It's a great blessing for her that I have granted her the position of principal wife! But she's colluding with that sickly person to throw dirty water on me! As long as she's dead, I will never be able to stop hating her!"
"Your Highness... you're so confused!" Lord Yang took a deep breath, his chest filled with a sense of powerlessness that only morphed into a heavy sigh. Beside him, Yang Weimin (Lord Yang's son) also frowned, his face etched with disapproval. He looked at his cousin, his eyes blazing with anger and jealousy, with a mixture of emotions. The Fourth Prince had been a star since birth, firmly supported by the aristocratic families headed by the Yang family, and his mother, Concubine Yang, had enjoyed unparalleled favor for years. So many people had paved the way for him, only to cultivate his headstrong and impulsive nature. Just like when he caused a city-wide uproar over Jiang Yuyao, becoming the laughingstock of the capital.
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