Chapter 665 Brother, I'm sorry
The stone walls of the prison were perpetually damp and cold, and even the wind carried the smell of rust, so heavy it could crush one's breath.
Zhao Xiuyuan leaned against the corner of the wall, his eyes closed. The fingers that he repeatedly rubbed on the rough stone surface betrayed his unstable state of mind.
"Brother! Brother!"
An urgent female voice pierced the deathly silence, carrying a tremor that she tried to suppress but couldn't quite manage.
When Zhao Xiuyuan opened his eyes, a sliver of light was moving in from outside the cell door, and the dim torchlight illuminated Zhao Xiyue's face.
She wore a moon-white soft satin dress, made of the same brocade he had obtained from the Jiangnan weaving workshop last year. At this moment, the hem of the dress was stained with mud, which made her usually clean face appear somewhat disheveled and pale.
"Xi Yue?"
Zhao Xiuyuan leaned against the wall and stood up, the chains dragging on his ankles making a dull thud: "The capital should be in complete chaos by now, how are you going to get here?"
His gaze swept over her clothes; the collar was neatly buttoned, and there were no signs of tearing on the cuffs. His tense body relaxed slightly: "Is Jiang Nuanzhi's medicine effective? Has no one dared to neglect you these past few days?"
Zhao Xiyue's lips froze for a moment, as quickly as a candle flame blown by the wind, before curving back into a familiar smile as she looked up at Zhao Xiuyuan: "I'm fine, brother, don't worry."
She reached into her sleeve and pulled out a brass key: "Brother, I've come to rescue you while things are in chaos outside."
The lock clicked open, but Zhao Xiuyuan didn't move. He took off his coat and wrapped it around Zhao Xiyue's thin body, his brows furrowed: "We can't leave."
“Brother.” Zhao Xiyue looked up at Zhao Xiuyuan with her dark pupils.
"Listen to your brother." Zhao Xiuyuan lowered his voice and gently stroked Zhao Xiyue's head. His voice softened a bit. "Neither of us can leave this time. Xiyue, no matter who tricks you into defecting, you must not believe them. Just endure for a few more days. Before long, no matter who succeeds, we will still have a glimmer of hope. Our Zhao family has not yet reached the end of its road."
Zhao Xiyue looked up abruptly: "Brother, what do you mean by a glimmer of hope? If the Li family gains power, will I still have a good life?"
Zhao Xiuyuan laughed, his eyes full of doting: "You still have such a childish temper. I gave Jiang Nuanzhi such a big gift, which is only to protect the lives of my brother and me. I'm sure she can do that."
"You want me to humbly beg for pity from that country bumpkin?"
Zhao Xiuyuan paused for a moment, then frowned: "Xiyue, don't be willful! Listen to your brother. Even if we're truly at our wits' end, I won't let you suffer! I've already settled things in Jiangnan. It's not too late to leave in a few days... uh."
Before the words were finished, in a daze, there was a soft "thud" sound—the sound of a dagger piercing flesh.
Zhao Xiuyuan lowered his head, the hilt of the dagger embedded in his abdomen. The hilt was inlaid with black jade, which was the birthday gift that he had accompanied Xiyue to choose at Jubao Pavilion last year.
Blood trickled down the blade, quickly soaking through his thin prison trousers, dripping onto the ground and splattering into tiny droplets.
His fingers trembled as he touched the warm, damp area, blood seeping between his fingers, sticky and greasy.
He looked up, and there stood Zhao Xiyue, her eyes, always filled with admiration, now brimming with tears. She was still his sister.
“Xi Yue…” His voice was muffled and hoarse, as if it had been rubbed with sandpaper: “…Why?”
Zhao Xiyue's hand was still gripping the dagger hilt, and hot blood gushed out, covering her slender hand completely.
Tears streamed down her wide eyes, but she just stared intently at Zhao Xiuyuan: "Brother, I'm sorry, I don't want to! I, Zhao Xiyue, will always be the most noble woman in the world! I will never grovel and beg for mercy!"
Her voice trembled violently, yet every word was enunciated clearly: "Brother, your crimes are heinous, you deserve to die! The Prince promised that once you're dead, he would make me a Noble Consort! Now that he's done it, brother, you should go first."
Blood and foam gushed from the corner of Zhao Xiuyuan's mouth as he stared at Zhao Xiyue, almost blankly: "...Xi...Yue."
Zhao Xiyue's tears flowed even more fiercely, but she stared intently with her eyes wide open, pushing the dagger in another half inch.
Zhao Xiuyuan groaned, his body swaying. Unable to stand, he collapsed with a thud.
Zhao Xiyue hugged him and tried to wipe the blood from the corner of his mouth, but the blood on her hands was even more viscous, making them dirtier the more she wiped, until both of them were covered in bloodstains, and for a moment it was impossible to tell whose blood it was.
Zhao Xiyue seemed completely oblivious, unconsciously repeating the action of wiping Zhao Xiuyuan's face, murmuring, "A noble consort cannot have a rebellious brother. Brother, you were never going to live anyway. I just wanted you to leave this world more peacefully, that's all."
Zhao Xiuyuan's vision began to blur, and the image of little Zhao Xiyue appeared before him, reaching out in a childish voice: "Brother, hug me."
"Brother, Xiyue loves you the most."
"Brother, we don't have a mother anymore."
"Brother, from now on, you're all I have."
Through the blur, his Xi Yue was in tears, her face full of pain.
Why? Is something bothering her?
Throughout his life, Zhao Xiuyuan betrayed his monarch, his commander, and the regent. But none of that mattered; he still had his sister, and all he needed was to protect her.
Why is my sister crying like this now?
"Xi Yue." He raised his hand, wanting to touch her face, but his fingers fell limply in mid-air, and the words he didn't say disappeared into the damp dungeon.
Springtime in Jiangnan...is very beautiful.
He had originally planned... to go see her together after she recovered...
His body fell heavily to the ground, the iron chain on his wrist making a final, piercing dragging sound before falling completely silent.
The oil lamp slipped from Zhao Xiyue's hand and rolled to the ground. The flame licked at the bloodstains on the ground, casting half of her face in light and half in shadow.
She remained supporting him, the dagger still embedded in his abdomen. Blood flowed down her wrist, dripping onto the ground, mixing with his blood, making it impossible to distinguish whose was whose.
The wind from the prison blew in again, carrying an even stronger chill.
The blood foam that rose from the ground shimmered on the hem of her pale white skirt, like a dark red flower in bloom.
She finally squatted down, covered her face, and cried out in a suppressed sob, as if her throat was blocked, the sound echoing in the empty prison.
"Imperial Consort, I am an Imperial Consort now! Yes, I'm going to find the Prince. Your Highness, I did it!"
She didn't know how much time had passed when she suddenly moved, tightened her grip on the calligraphy she had been keeping, and stumbled out of the prison.
She dared not look back, nor stop. Her ankles were cut and bleeding from the gravel, and excruciating pain struck, yet she continued to run frantically.
"Your Highness, I did it!"
At the entrance of the Regent's Palace, Zhao Xiyue knocked mechanically, her voice hoarse and unpleasant, as if she were a different person: "Your Highness, open the door, I did it."
With a creak, the door opened.
"Your Highness."
Zhao Xiyue suddenly froze, only to see Princess Li Mingyu glancing at her sideways: "You're quick enough, aren't you?"
"Why you? Where is Your Highness?"
Li Mingyu smiled faintly: "What, you don't actually think that it's the prince who wants to kill Zhao Xiuyuan, do you?"
"Zhao Xiyue, you really are incredibly stupid."
Li Mingyu's eyes were full of impatience. She waved her sleeve and said, "Clean it up. Don't let her offend the prince's eyes."
(End of this chapter)
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