Chapter 60 My Background, Even Just the Warmth of My Body
The suffocating pressure and the pain of being forcibly penetrated intertwined. Through her blurred vision, Fangru saw the darkness surging in his eyes, a stubbornness that would not give up until she got a satisfactory response.
Her will to survive, coupled with a stubborn refusal to succumb to despair accumulated over her previous six lives, allowed her to exhale, in broken, intermittent breaths, during another brief respite:
"Your Majesty... what kind of sincerity do you desire?" She was forced to tilt her head back, tears streaming down her temples. "Is it to kill me like shattering a piece of porcelain... or... spare my life..."
She gasped for breath, each word seeming to be squeezed out of her throat, "Slowly... torment... so that you... can be satisfied?"
Her words were barbed, yet given her current vulnerability, they seemed like a desperate test.
Zhou Ling paused slightly, loosening his grip on her neck a little, but still not letting go completely.
He leaned down, his nose almost touching hers, their hot breaths mingling: "Whether I'm satisfied or not depends on you."
His thumb traced the red welts on her neck where he had pinched her, his voice low and dangerous, "Tell me, who are you thinking of right now?"
This was yet another time he had pushed her to the edge of a cliff, forcing her to sever ties with the past, even if only verbally.
Fangru closed her eyes, her long eyelashes wet with tears. Finally, as if sighing, she uttered two words: "...Your Majesty..."
That "Your Majesty" was as light as a mosquito's buzz, yet it seemed to carry a weight of resignation.
The storm in Zhou Ling's eyes seemed to have subsided somewhat, replaced by a deeper and more complex sense of possession.
After an unknown amount of time, the intense struggle finally came to an end.
Fangru had already lost consciousness, and everything went completely black before her eyes; she fainted.
Zhou Ling looked at the unconscious person beneath her. Her face was pale, her body was covered in marks, and she was so fragile that she could not be broken.
He reached out and gently brushed the back of his fingers against her damp, cold cheek, his eyes dark and unfathomable.
Just then, a low voice came from outside the hall: "Your Majesty, the commander of the Imperial Guards requests an audience, saying he has important matters to report."
Zhou Ling pulled over a brocade quilt and covered Fangru's naked body before saying in a deep voice, "Come in."
Li Zuo entered silently, knelt outside the screen, and bowed deeply: "Your Majesty, as you instructed, Ma Xian has been released from the prison, and sent lookouts have been keeping watch on him for twelve hours a day. After his release, he was very cautious, wandering around several streets before finally entering a bookstore called 'Moyunzhai' in the West Market, where he has not yet left. I have secretly taken control of the bookstore. Shall we immediately move in and capture him?"
Zhou Ling straightened his sleeves, his gaze sweeping over Fangru, who was fast asleep on the bed, his eyes cold: "No need, keep a close eye on him and see which rats will come into contact with him."
"Yes!" Li Zuo accepted the order and quietly withdrew.
The room fell silent again, with only the crackling of the candlelight.
Zhou Ling walked to the bedside, gazing at Fang Ru's still furrowed brows as she slept. He reached out, seemingly wanting to smooth them, but his fingertips stopped just before touching her, as if afraid of disturbing something, or afraid that this moment of peace would be like a mirage, shattering at the slightest touch.
He finally withdrew his hand slowly, gave her a deep look, turned around, and left with a chilling desolation.
The following day, at Xuanzheng Hall.
The morning court session had just ended, and Zhou Ling was rubbing his temples, trying to dispel the fatigue left by the previous night's tossing and turning and the inexplicable irritation in his heart, when a eunuch bowed and reported: "Your Majesty, Grand Secretary Li is requesting an audience outside the hall, saying that he has important matters to report."
Zhou Ling's eyes darkened, a barely perceptible hint of annoyance flashing across them. "Summon him."
Grand Secretary Li, with his white hair and beard, held a jade tablet and stepped steadily into the hall, his expression solemn, even carrying a sense of resolute determination as if facing death.
He performed the deepest salute, but did not rise. He went straight to the point, his loud voice echoing in the empty hall:
"Your Majesty! This old minister risks his life to remonstrate once again! Last night, the Ministry of Justice confirmed that Ma Xian is indeed a core member of the Baiyang Society, a rebel group! Shen Fangru, the daughter of the Vice Minister of the Court of Imperial Sacrifices, has a very close relationship with him and is colluding with the rebels. The evidence is conclusive!"
He raised his head, his gaze fixed intently on the emperor on the throne, each word like a knife: "The Baiyang Society has attempted to assassinate Your Majesty several times, their wolfish ambitions are blatantly obvious! Shen Fangru's actions this time are utterly despicable! She clearly intends to use this opportunity to assassinate you again! Keeping such a scourge by your side is tantamount to adding fuel to the fire, digging your own grave! This old minister implores Your Majesty to prioritize the well-being of the nation and your own safety, and to immediately issue an edict to execute Shen Fangru…!"
He emphasized the last two words heavily, with an undeniable resolve, and they resounded like thunder throughout the hall.
The air froze instantly, and even the eunuchs standing to the side held their breath.
Zhou Ling's hand rested on the armrest of the dragon throne, his face expressionless, but deep within his eyes surged a dark, turbulent sea.
He remained silent, a silence that carried immense pressure, causing Grand Secretary Li, kneeling on the ground, to straighten his back even more, as a sign of his unyielding spirit.
After a long pause, Zhou Ling finally spoke slowly, his voice not loud, but carrying an undeniable air of authority: "I understand."
He paused, and before Grand Secretary Li could speak again, he uttered two words decisively: "No need."
Grand Secretary Li looked up abruptly, his eyes filled with disbelief and heartbreak: "Your Majesty! You mustn't be bewitched by this witch! She..."
“Grand Secretary Li!” Zhou Ling interrupted him, his voice suddenly turning cold, like an icicle in the dead of winter, “I say, no need.”
He stood up, walked down the imperial steps, and stood before Grand Secretary Li, looking down at this founding elder.
"She is mine." Zhou Ling's voice was low and slow, each word seemingly ground from the depths of his chest. "Her life is mine. Without my permission, who dares to touch her? The Baiyang Society? Or you?"
He leaned slightly closer to Grand Secretary Li, his gaze like a tangible shackle locking him in: "I have my reasons for keeping her alive. Whether to kill her or spare her, whether to favor her or punish her, is entirely up to me. It's not anyone else's place," he emphasized deliberately, "come and teach me what to do."
He straightened up, waved his hand, and his tone returned to its usual calmness, yet it was even more chilling: "This matter ends here. Step down."
Grand Secretary Li opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but when he met Zhou Ling's unfathomable eyes, which were already filled with murderous intent, all his words of advice stuck in his throat.
He understood that His Majesty's mind was made up, and any talk of executing Shen Fangru was now a challenge to the emperor's wrath and a path to certain death.
He finally kowtowed heavily, his back hunched over, and silently withdrew from the Xuanzheng Hall, filled with endless disappointment and worry.
Silence returned to the hall.
Zhou Ling stood alone in the center of the hall, sunlight streaming in through the high windows, casting a long shadow of him.
He closed his eyes, but what came to mind was Fangru's pale and fragile sleeping face in the Guanyin Pavilion room last night.
Kill her? How could he possibly kill her?
Even if she really had an affair with Bai Yang, even if she really harbored ill intentions, he would never let her go.
She was his poison, his addiction, the only obsession he wanted to hold onto tightly in his crazy world.
Even if it means certain doom, he will drag her down with him.
...
Fangru regained consciousness amidst a crushing, aching pain.
My eyelids were so heavy I couldn't lift them, and every breath I took was accompanied by a hidden pain throughout my body.
In a daze, she felt herself being carried away from the bed that had witnessed so much humiliation and chaos. Warm water was gently used to wipe her skin, and she was changed into dry nightgown.
The palace servants moved with extreme caution, their deference bordering on fear.
She never opened her eyes, preferring to remain immersed in this false tranquility.
Only after she was properly settled back into her residence, Yilan Palace, where the familiar air, carrying a light floral fragrance, enveloped her, did her tense nerves relax slightly, and she truly fell into a deep sleep.
When I woke up again, the palace was already lit, and the warm orange light dispelled some of the chill of the deep palace.
She stirred slightly and heard a voice so familiar it made her heart stop, filled with utmost anxiety and caution: "Ru'er...you're awake?"
Fangru suddenly opened her eyes wide and turned her head in disbelief. She saw her father, Shen Wenzheng, sitting on the embroidered stool by the bed. His official robes were neat, and although his face showed fatigue and worry, he was unharmed.
"Father...?" she began, her voice hoarse, "How...how could you..."
How did I end up here?
Zhou Lingming... clearly threatened her with her father's life just last night. Her icy, piercing gaze and the tone in which she strangled her and declared, "Shen Wenzheng is in prison," seemed utterly genuine.
The immense shock even overshadowed the physical pain.
She struggled to sit up.
"Don't move." Shen Wenzheng quickly got up, carefully supported her shoulders, and placed a soft pillow behind her.
His movements carried the clumsy tenderness characteristic of a father, but his gaze swept over the ambiguous red marks on her neck that were not completely covered by her collar with a complicated look, before quickly looking away, a trace of embarrassment and heartache flashing across his face.
"It was His Majesty who summoned my father to the palace."
Shen Wenzheng lowered his voice, sat back down on the embroidered stool, and unconsciously rubbed his knees with his hands. "His Majesty only said that... your words and actions in the palace may have been inappropriate and offended the Emperor. He ordered me to enter the palace to properly... 'teach' you."
He uttered the word "teaching" with unusual difficulty.
Although the Vice Minister of the Court of Imperial Sacrifices was not a powerful minister with absolute authority, he held a prestigious and respectable position. How could he not understand the true meaning of the word "instruction" at this moment?
The emperor wanted him, the father, to "educate" a daughter who had just received the emperor's favor and might even be "punished" for it.
The intimacy, humiliation, and absolute control involved sent a chill down Shen Wenzheng's spine, yet he dared not speak out against it.
Fangru's heart sank straight down.
Zhou Ling lied to her.
He easily shattered the defenses she had painstakingly built up since her seventh rebirth with a threat she could not bear, watching her beg for mercy in the most wretched way, like a drowning person clinging to a piece of driftwood.
However, even if his father is safe and sound at the moment, who can guarantee that he won't end up in jail because of Zhou Ling's momentary lapse of judgment?
That man—every word he utters could be a trap, and every promise he makes could be reversed in an instant.
He doesn't need to actually do anything; simply keeping her in a constant state of fear of "potential loss" is enough to keep her firmly in his grasp.
This realization, more so than the direct violence of the previous night, sent a chill down her spine and filled her with fear.
She lowered her eyelashes, concealing the turbulent emotions in her eyes, and said in a low voice, "It is your unfilial daughter who has caused Father worry. Your daughter... just inadvertently offended His Majesty."
She couldn't explain the rebirth at the Xuanji Banquet that night, nor the madness of the seven lifetimes of entanglement, nor could she drag her upright but powerless father into this bottomless vortex of politics and emotions.
Looking at his daughter's pale and fragile face, Shen Wenzheng could only sigh deeply.
In matters of the imperial family, under the emperor's authority, there was no room for him to interfere.
After seeing off his father, who kept turning back with a worried look in his eyes, the Yilan Palace returned to silence.
Fangru leaned against the headboard, feeling icy cold all over. Zhou Ling's "deception" was like a poisonous thorn stuck in her heart, reminding her of this man's fickleness and unfathomable nature.
The next day, despite still feeling unwell, Fangru forced herself to get up, carefully dressed herself, and used heavy makeup to barely cover the marks on her neck and the dark circles under her eyes before going to the Empress's palace to pay her respects.
Inside the Phoenix Palace, a warm fragrance filled the air, accompanied by the tinkling of jade pendants. The concubines were seated according to their ranks, creating an atmosphere of harmony, but beneath the surface, undercurrents were stirring.
As soon as Fangru entered the room, she felt countless gazes falling on her—inquiring, jealous, and resentful.
She kept her eyes straight ahead and respectfully bowed to the Empress, who sat at the head of the table in a phoenix coronet and embroidered robe.
"Is Consort Shen feeling any better?"
The Empress's voice was calm, yet tinged with detachment.
She didn't deliberately make things difficult, but her aloofness from her superior position was more stressful than direct hostility.
"Thank you for your concern, Your Majesty. I am now fine," Fangru replied softly.
Consort Zhi, seated at the head of the table below the Empress, was dressed in a scarlet palace gown, adorned with jewels and jade, radiating dazzling beauty.
She glanced at Fangru sideways, a half-smile playing on her lips, her tone undisguisedly sarcastic: "Sister Chen looks a bit thinner, probably from 'serving' His Majesty. Indeed, as a newcomer to His Majesty's favor, it's understandable that she might not know her place. She'll need to learn more about etiquette in the future."
She deliberately emphasized the word "serve," which caused several lower-ranking concubines in the hall to cover their mouths and chuckle.
Fangru lowered her eyes and did not reply. This kind of verbal argument was pointless.
Consort Zhi seemed to find it boring, so she turned her attention to Prince Cheng, who was nestled beside her in his princely robes, and said with a hint of deliberate affection, "Cheng'er, go and pay your respects to your Consort Chen."
When the young Prince Cheng saw Fangru, his large, dark eyes instantly lit up with joy.
He broke free from Consort Zhi's somewhat forceful hand, and with his short little legs, he ran up to Fangru, looked up at her, and called out in his childish voice, "Empress Chen! Cheng'er missed you!"
The child's innocent affection, like a warm current, temporarily dispels the surrounding polluted air.
Fangru's heart softened. She knelt down, gently embraced him, and said softly, "Cheng'er, be good. I missed you too."
She recalled that Prince Cheng had mysteriously gone missing near Guanyin Pavilion, and the palace had only announced that it was because the prince was playing around, which turned out to be a false alarm.
But she always felt that something was amiss.
Taking advantage of the close proximity, she softened her voice and tentatively asked, "Cheng'er, last time at Guanyin Pavilion, why did you run off to such a far-off forest by yourself? You scared everyone to death."
Upon hearing this, Prince Cheng pouted, as if he had remembered something unpleasant.
He leaned close to Fangru's ear and whispered in a barely audible voice, with a hint of grievance, "Your Highness, let me tell you... it was my mother... my mother took me to the edge of the woods. She said she wanted to play hide-and-seek and told me to wait for her there without making a sound... But I waited for so long, it was almost dark, and my mother still hadn't come to find me..."
Fangru's arms, which were holding the child, suddenly stiffened. A chill instantly ran from the soles of her feet up her spine, making it almost impossible for her to maintain her squatting position.
The official explanation is that the prince got lost on his own, but the child himself said that his biological mother deliberately abandoned him in a remote forest!
Considering the injury on Prince Cheng's head earlier, when he said, "My mother threw me..." Consort Zhi, what exactly is she trying to do? Even tigers don't eat their cubs!
Fangru was gripped by immense shock and anxiety.
She steadied herself and, after paying her respects, found an excuse to deliberately lag a few steps behind, and very tactfully informed the Empress of her concerns about the safety of Prince Cheng.
She only mentioned that the child seemed to be still traumatized by the time he got lost and was in poor mental condition, and hoped that he could be taken better care of. She did not directly criticize Consort Zhi.
The empress, seated at the head of the table, listened quietly, her fingers slowly and deliberately playing with a string of tourmaline prayer beads on her wrist.
After Fangru finished speaking, she raised her eyes, her gaze sharp as a knife, as if it could pierce through all pretense.
She suddenly chuckled very softly, a laugh devoid of any warmth, only filled with icy mockery.
"Shen Fangru," the Empress put down her teacup, "are you playing dumb with me, or do you really think that I, who hold the Phoenix Seal, am a blind and deaf person with no senses?"
Fangru's heart skipped a beat, and she instinctively held her breath.
The Empress stood up and walked step by step to her: "That child, Prince Cheng... is his background really a secret? The Empress Dowager told me yesterday that he is not His Majesty's bloodline at all!"
She leaned forward slightly, her nail-covered fingers almost poking Fangru's nose, her tone undisguisedly sarcastic: "He's the bastard child of your good fiancé Gu Zhou and Wang Yuan, who hasn't even become Consort Zhi yet! His Majesty's 'deep affection' for you, 'love me, love my dog' to an outrageous degree! He even acknowledges your fiancé's illegitimate child under his name, letting him live a life of luxury in this palace with the title of prince!"
The Empress straightened up and wiped her fingers, which had almost touched Fangru, with a handkerchief as if they were dirty. "You come to me now and tell me to take good care of this child? Shen Fangru, are you showing off to me? Showing off that His Majesty would even commit the heinous crime of confusing the royal bloodline for your sake?"
Fangru stood frozen in place, as if the blood in her body had frozen instantly.
So that's the truth...
She suddenly remembered that cold afternoon in her first life when Zhou Ling threw a secret letter in front of her.
The three figures huddled together on the letter—Gu Zhou, Wang Yuan, and the child whose features resembled Gu Zhou's—were none other than Cheng'er.
At this moment, all the fragments were perfectly pieced together.
Why did Zhou Ling suddenly have an extra "prince"? Why did Consort Zhi harbor murderous intent towards her own flesh and blood? Why was the Empress Dowager's eyes filled with humiliation and anger when she mentioned this matter? Everything has been answered.
He was not being tolerant of the child at all.
Gu Zhou is still alive, and this child is still alive.
Zhou Ling kept his rival's child in the palace and displayed the evidence of his betrayal before him every day.
This isn't forgiveness; it's the cruelest reminder. Look, the person you deeply love has not only betrayed you, but I also hold their bloodline in my hands.
He was using the most extreme and twisted methods to brand his mark on her.
Her past, her suffering fiancé, and even the proof of Gu Zhou's betrayal, all became spoils of his obsessive possessiveness, which he arbitrarily confined to his own territory.
Fangru felt a sharp pain in her heart when she thought of Cheng'er's innocent eyes.
This child knew nothing, yet became Zhou Ling's tool for tormenting her and living evidence of Gu Zhou's betrayal.
She finally understood that Zhou Ling wanted more than just her as a person. He wanted complete conquest, including her past, her feelings, and every important person in her life. Even the evidence of Gu Zhou's betrayal was to be forcibly brought under his control, becoming a bargaining chip for his show of force against her.
Every inch of air in this deep palace silently proclaims that she can never escape his grasp. Even her most cherished memories will be shattered by him and then pieced back together in his own way.
She felt a wave of dizziness, more desperate than when she had endured physical pain the night before.
...
The night, like thick ink, slowly seeped into the eaves and brackets of the palace.
Inside the Yilan Palace, only a bronze crane-shaped palace lantern remained in the corner, casting a small circle of dim yellow light and leaving most of the space to swaying shadows.
Fangru removed her hairpins and wore a moon-white soft satin nightgown, sitting alone on a sandalwood couch by the window.
A crack was opened in the window, and the night breeze, carrying the coolness of late autumn, stirred her long, black hair that cascaded over her shoulders.
Soft footsteps came from outside the hall, steady and rhythmic, a frequency she now knew by heart.
The palace maids and eunuchs guarding outside the hall seemed to bow slightly without announcing their arrival, and the footsteps went straight into the inner hall.
Fangru didn't move, still gazing out the window, but the fingertips of her hand resting on her knee curled slightly.
Zhou Ling dismissed the two palace servants who were originally serving in the inner hall, leaving only the two of them in the vast space.
He walked up behind her, carrying the chill of the night, without saying a word immediately.
His gaze fell on her slender back, on the faint, ambiguous red marks he had left on her delicate nape yesterday, his eyes as deep as the night.
He wasn't in a good mood today.
Grand Secretary Li's words, "This woman is colluding with the Baiyang Society, intending to assassinate the emperor; keeping her alive will only bring disaster," were like nails piercing his ears.
He certainly wouldn't harm her because of a few words of advice, but the feeling of having his weakness exposed by his ministers made him extremely unhappy.
Coming to her was like an instinct, a way of confirming that his possessions were still under his control, a way of drawing something... even if it was just the warmth of her body.
"It's so late, why aren't you resting?" He finally spoke, his voice unusually deep in the silent hall, carrying a hint of barely perceptible fatigue, as well as his usual unquestionable sense of control.
Fangru slowly turned her head.
The dim light cast soft shadows on her face, making her skin appear even paler. Her eyes, which were always filled with tears or fear, were now like two bottomless pools of still water, reflecting no emotion.
She looked at him without saying a word, just watching quietly.
This overly calm gaze, ironically, allowed Zhou Ling's displeasure to quietly grow.
He stepped forward and sat down beside her.
The couch sank slightly due to his added weight.
The crisp scent of ambergris emanating from him, mixed with the cool night breeze, instantly filled the air around Fangru.
He reached out and habitually stroked her smooth neck, where a rapid pulse beneath her skin betrayed that she was not as calm as she appeared.
"Your Majesty," Fangru finally spoke just as his fingertips were about to slip inside the collar of her nightgown. Her voice was soft but exceptionally clear, interrupting his intimate actions. "I have a question that has been troubling me all day long, and I cannot find a solution. I hope Your Majesty can enlighten me."
Zhou Ling's hand paused.
He looked down at her, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes, quickly replaced by a deeper curiosity. He liked the submissiveness of her body, but occasionally, her sharp words would pique his interest in a different way, even though that interest often came with the risk of getting out of control.
"Oh?" He withdrew his hand, leaned back, and adopted a posture that seemed relaxed but was actually more imposing. "What could possibly trouble you so much, my dear minister?" He used the teasing and distant term "my dear minister" to imply that he was willing to play this question-and-answer game with her.
Fangru met his gaze without flinching and asked, word by word, "Your Majesty, why did you adopt Prince Cheng as your own and raise him in this deep palace, with the status of a prince?"
The moment the question was asked, the air in the hall seemed to freeze.
The lingering warmth in Zhou Ling's eyes, aroused by her body, instantly cooled and settled, turning into a deep, cold pool.
He stared intently into her eyes, trying to discern anger, jealousy, or at least intense emotions within them.
But all he saw was an almost empty calm, and beneath that calm, in an untouchable depth, a trace of suppressed...sorrow.
This sorrow pierced his heart.
Why is it so tragic? Is it because of Gu Zhou? Or because of that child?
A nameless anger, mixed with a bitter taste that he himself didn't want to delve into, suddenly flared up.
He kept that child, and his motives were as complicated as a tangled mess.
It may have started as a malicious test, a form of revenge.
She would do anything for Gu Zhou. He stubbornly believed that the Baiyang Society incident was done by her for Gu Zhou, so he held Gu Zhou's only possible bloodline in his hands and placed it in front of her.
He wanted to see if she would hate him even more for the sake of the child, or if... she would be disappointed by the realization that Gu Zhou already had a child with someone else, and thus turn her gaze back to him, even if only slightly?
This is an extremely chaotic, paranoid, and even somewhat desperate calculation.
He possessed the world, yet he used a child to measure the already tilted scales in a woman's heart.
He even had a dark thought: if she could really accept this child, could he... pretend that this was "their" child?
Once this thought took root, it entwined his heart like a vine.
He considered himself hard-hearted and had never expected any warmth or affection from blood relatives. Yet, it was she who made him have such absurd thoughts.
The thought that she would secretly take a contraceptive potion after each time she served him made his heart ache as if it were being pricked by needles.
Since she is unwilling to bear him children, then he might as well end the continuation of the royal bloodline.
This vast land, in the end, cannot compare to a single glance from her.
What difference does it make whose child you raise? If she's willing to stay by his side because of this child, even if it's just pretending, he'll accept it.
He gave a self-deprecating smile.
It's insane! He could have forced her to give birth to the prince, but he chose to play along with this charade.
But who could blame her for occasionally revealing her tenderness towards the child in this play?
He longed for such tenderness but could not obtain it, so he could only steal a few moments of it through this method.
If she could stay by his side and raise a child she "cares about" because of this, it seems... not so intolerable.
At least this way, they finally have a common concern, even if that concern originally belonged to another man.
But at this moment, she asked the question so calmly, as if discussing a political matter that had nothing to do with her.
This completely isolated him from any kind of reaction he had anticipated.
"What?" He smirked, a cold and mocking smile curving his lips. He leaned forward, closing the distance between them again, his gaze locking onto her like a hawk's. "Seeing that Gu Zhou's flesh and blood are safe and sound, even enjoying the honors of a prince, my dear minister... are you not satisfied?"
His words were barbed, deliberately twisting her intentions, trying to provoke her, or rather, trying to find the answer he wanted from her reaction: evidence that she cared about Gu Zhou.
Fangru listened to his familiar yet chilling argument and felt a deep sense of powerlessness wash over her.
He lived forever in the prison he had built for himself, and locked her inside as well.
Explanation was futile; she already knew that.
She wasn't angry, but the sadness in her eyes seemed to deepen.
She took a soft breath, avoiding his scorching gaze, and looked at the flickering lamplight. Her voice remained steady, yet carried a hint of barely perceptible weariness: "Your Majesty, what do you think I should do? Be grateful to Your Majesty for raising the child born to my wretched fiancé and his mistress? Or should I be angry at Your Majesty for placing this child in this cannibalistic palace, making him a target of public criticism, and perhaps leading to a tragic end?"
Her words contained no vehement accusations, only a heavy, realistic concern.
This worry is for the innocent child, and also for... the unresolved mess between the three of them, who were forcibly bound together by Zhou Ling.
But to Zhou Ling, this calmness was another form of resistance, a defense of Gu Zhou and his bloodline!
She was even worried about the child's "future"! What about his future? Had she thought about it even a little bit?
"Shen Fangru!" Suppressed anger finally broke through the gates of reason. He roared and suddenly grabbed her wrist. The force was so great that her slender bones made a sound of being unable to bear the weight. She frowned instantly in pain, but stubbornly did not cry out.
"Don't play dumb with me!"
He practically gritted his teeth as he roughly pulled her towards him, their noses almost touching. His warm, angry breath brushed against her face. "I'm keeping him alive only for your sake! It's a favor from me! Otherwise, just because he's Gu Zhou's son, I would have killed him long ago..."
"So what if it was a long time ago?" Fangru suddenly raised her eyes, interrupting his unfinished threat.
The pent-up grievances, anger, and despair over this inescapable fate finally found a way out at this moment.
"Kill him? Or let him suffer a fate worse than death? Just like His Majesty imprisoned me here, torturing me day after day, yet deliberately leaving me with a breath of life, so that I may never be reborn?"
These words were like a poisoned ice blade, instantly freezing the air.
The anger in Zhou Ling's eyes suddenly died down, replaced by a deep, bone-chilling pain.
"Never to be reincarnated?" He repeated the phrase, his voice filled with disbelief and chill. "So, in your heart, I am this cruel."
He loosened his grip on her, but his fingertips gently caressed the red marks on her chin. This sudden tenderness was even more unsettling than the previous roughness.
“Shen Fangru,” his voice was low and sighing, “if I truly wish you eternal damnation, I will not allow the people you care about to leave the imperial prison alive.”
Zhou Ling gave her one last, deep look.
“One day,” his voice drifted into the night, “you will understand what it truly means to be condemned to eternal damnation.”
The palace doors closed behind him, leaving Fangru standing alone in the same spot.
The meaningful words she had just spoken sent a chill down her spine more than any threat she had ever faced.
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