Chapter 94 Running Away with the Baby (Ninth Generation)
Fangru stood there, stunned, as the clamor of the Xuanji Banquet surged in like a tide, engulfing her.
She clearly remembered the sensation of the dagger piercing her flesh, Zhou Ling's pale face, and the subtle gesture of him instinctively protecting his wound and preventing blood from splattering on her, even in excruciating pain.
But now, there's nothing.
Only the hall was brightly lit, guests chatted and laughed, and the sounds of string and wind instruments filled the air.
"How could this be..." she murmured silently, her fingertips icy cold.
Not far away, Zhao Mingde held a glass of wine, his eyes filled with disdain, just as he had the previous eight times. Lin Yueyao, surrounded by noble ladies, skillfully prepared "Drunken Hibiscus" petal wine. Su Wanqing approached with a smile, fanning herself with a round fan, her face showing kind concern for the help she had received three days prior.
Everything is repeating itself.
But her sleeves were empty; there were no prayer beads, no jade pendants, and nothing she thought could reverse time.
Why start over?
In a daze, fragments of memories surged in like a tide.
In her first life, she committed suicide, unable to bear the humiliation. The last thing she saw was his bloodshot eyes and the short blade that had somehow ended up pressed against his own heart.
In her second life, she was assassinated. Before her consciousness faded, she seemed to hear his desperate shouts and see his reckless figure rushing towards her. At that time, she thought it was just a hallucination.
In her fifth life, she drank the poisoned wine. In the instant before her consciousness sank completely into darkness, she heard him say in her ear, "Don't be afraid, wait for me." Then came the sharp sound of weapons being drawn, and the terrified screams of the palace servants around her. She could no longer see, but she could feel the warm liquid splashing onto the back of her hand, and the weight of him finally collapsing beside her.
In her seventh life, she fell off a cliff while on the run. Just when she thought this was the end, a few days later, Zhou Ling came to the cliff and, amidst the screams of the crowd, jumped off without hesitation.
And then there was the eighth incarnation, just now.
She personally plunged the dagger into his abdomen, watching him stagger backward, watching him drain of all color from his face. Even then, his deep eyes remained fixed on her, as if trying to etch her image into the depths of his soul.
“Tell me…” he asked then, “These days, have you ever had even a shred of sincerity towards Ah Qi?”
Her answer was firm and resolute: "No! Not even a tiny bit!"
Looking back now, what flashed in his eyes at that time was not only pain, but also a resolute sense of relief.
I see.
It turns out that the basis for restarting time was never the purple jade prayer beads, the mutton fat jade pendant, or even her own death.
It's Zhou Ling.
Every time she died, he would follow her without hesitation.
Whether he followed her off a cliff or committed suicide by poison, he would always end his own life in the most resolute way after her death.
As long as he dies, her time will be forcibly pulled back to the beginning of the Xuanji Banquet, trapped in this endless day.
Fangru finally understood this cruel truth.
What she thought was revenge, what she thought was liberation, killing him with her own hands, was nothing more than pushing herself back into the cycle of fate.
She stood there, feeling the noisy crowd around her, but her heart was ice-cold.
It turns out, she could never escape it.
Because the person she hated to the core was willing to die for love time and time again just to keep her firmly by his side.
A figure moved before her eyes, and the master of ceremonies' voice, slightly urging, rang out again: "Miss Chen, please take your seat this way."
Fangru's fingertips curled slightly inside her sleeve.
She can't kill him anymore.
Each time the blade pierced his body, it became a curse that locked her back in place.
The sounds of string and wind instruments filled the air, but Fangru felt as if the noise was pricking her eardrums.
She couldn't stay any longer. Since his death was the key to restarting, this time, she had no choice but to escape.
She took a deep breath and, taking advantage of a brief pause in the music, rose and curtsied to the official in charge of the banquet arrangements. Her voice carried just the right amount of weakness: "Your Excellency, I suddenly feel unwell, dizzy and lightheaded. I fear I may spoil the enjoyment of Your Majesty and the other dignitaries. I humbly request permission to return to my residence to rest."
The official in charge of ceremonies looked troubled upon hearing this and was about to speak when a capable-looking eunuch dressed in a dark palace uniform silently approached, bowed, and said with a smile, "Miss Shen is unwell; it must be tiring for her. However, His Majesty has already given an imperial edict," he paused deliberately, his voice not loud but loud enough for those around to hear, "that if Miss Shen feels tired, she must go to the Flower Fragrance Pavilion, which has been prepared especially for you, to rest for a while. The Imperial Medical Bureau has prepared calming medicine. His Majesty also specifically instructed that he must personally inquire about Miss Shen's well-being after the banquet."
He stepped aside to make way, his posture respectful yet carrying an air of undeniable authority: "Miss Chen, please follow me."
These words were spoken so meticulously, and beneath the surface of feigned concern lay undisguised surveillance and obstruction.
Go home? He wouldn't give her that chance to leave his sight.
Fangru's heart sank. She knew that it was impossible to leave now, so she could only nod and say, "Thank you for your trouble, sir."
She followed the palace attendant leading the way inside, her eyes quickly scanning the familiar scenes.
Zhao Mingde, holding a cup of wine, was itching to drink. Lin Yueyao was putting the petals of the Drunken Hibiscus into the wine pot when Su Wanqing, waving a fan, walked towards her.
She quickened her pace subtly, precisely avoiding all possible intersections, as if navigating the cracks of fate.
We must leave here.
The prefectural government office was heavily guarded, with the only gap being the Zuixianlou restaurant, which was separated from the government office by only one wall and was relatively loosely guarded.
To reach the Drunken Immortal Pavilion, she must first obtain the "qualification" to enter the Glazed Flower Hall.
The sounds of string and wind instruments gradually rose, signaling the start of the performance.
Fangru suppressed her nausea, knowing the time had come.
Just as she was about to step forward, she saw Lin Yueyao gracefully rise to her feet.
"Your Majesty," Lin Yueyao said in a clear and melodious voice, "I have composed a new piece called 'Flying Dance Under the Moon,' which I wish to perform to add to the festivities of the Xuanji Banquet."
Just as everyone's expectant gaze was focused on Lin Yueyao, Fangru stood up without hesitation, her voice steady and powerful: "This humble woman is willing to dance with Miss Lin with the 'Breaking the Formation Music'."
The room erupted in uproar.
Their eyes met in mid-air. A hint of surprise flashed in Lin Yueyao's eyes, which then turned into an arrogant refusal to be outdone.
The drumbeats and string instruments sounded simultaneously.
On one side is the graceful and elegant flying dance, with flowing sleeves and graceful steps; on the other side is the powerful and resounding dance of breaking through formations, with leaps and turns, and an imposing momentum.
The two danced gracefully together in the hall, one gentle and the other strong, creating a wonderful contrast.
Lin Yueyao's dance moves were graceful, but they appeared particularly frail against the backdrop of the magnificent momentum of "Breaking the Formation Music".
Every graceful movement of hers was suppressed by Fangru's vigorous dance steps; the ethereal beauty she tried to project gradually lost its luster amidst the clanging of swords and horses in "Breaking the Enemy's Formation."
Fangru's every movement was precise and restrained; she was not showcasing her dance skills, but rather completing a necessary ritual.
As she spun around, she noticed that Zhou Ling's gaze was always following her, and the burning intensity in his eyes chilled her to the bone.
Lin Yueyao gradually lost her composure.
She wanted to compete with Fangru, but she appeared hasty and mechanical in the face of Fangru's steady and composed dance moves.
Even a slight mistake occurred during a spinning motion, which was quickly covered up, but everyone present was an expert, and it was clear who was better and who was worse.
As the last drumbeat fell, Fangru steadily finished her routine, while Lin Yueyao's ending move seemed somewhat rushed.
The hall was silent for a moment, then erupted in thunderous applause.
The music gradually faded, and the applause subsided.
Zhou Ling's gaze remained fixed on Fang Ru, his eyes filled not only with admiration but also with a subtle, almost imperceptible, hint of a successful plan.
"A reward," he said, his voice steady yet unmistakably focused. "Lead Miss Chen to the Glass Flower Hall to rest."
Everything was exactly the same as in the first life.
As they exchanged pleasantries in the Glass Flower Hall, a commotion indeed arose outside the window—Zhao Heng and Cheng Jinse had accidentally fallen into the water.
Guests rushed to the lakeside upon hearing the commotion, and maids scrambled to hand out handkerchiefs and fetch cloaks, creating a chaotic scene.
The time has come!
Fangru leaned closer to Zhou Ling, a subtle fragrance wafting from her sleeves, and whispered in a voice only the two of them could hear: "Your Majesty, I've heard that Zuixianlou has recently acquired wine from the Western Regions, which will be aged for ten years before being opened..."
Upon hearing this, Zhou Ling's eyes suddenly darkened, and the glass cup he was playing with made a soft "ding" sound as he placed it lightly on the table.
He turned his head to look at her, his eyes swirling with emotions that eventually turned into a deep, dark black.
“Then…” he stood up, “go and have a taste.”
After saying that, he took the lead and headed towards the Drunken Immortal Pavilion.
Fangru immediately followed closely behind.
Inside the Drunken Immortal Pavilion, the incense smoke curled up, exactly as I remembered.
Following her memory, Fangru slowly knelt down.
The moment she lowered her head, all the weariness and coldness from her eight lifetimes vanished from her eyes. When she looked up again, her eyes were filled with just the right amount of urgency and sorrow, just like the innocent girl in her first life who was willing to risk everything for her beloved.
"Your Majesty," her voice trembled almost imperceptibly, filled with a desperate plea, "I humbly beg Your Majesty to show mercy and spare Gu Zhou's life!"
She paused slightly, as if her breath was unsteady from fear, but in reality she was coldly reciting her prepared lines in her mind.
"He...is innocent!"
She said it with such sincerity that she almost believed it herself.
But only she knew that the heart that once beat for Gu Zhou had long been crushed to ashes in countless reincarnations. At this moment, what she was pleading for was merely a necessary tool to push the gears of fate forward.
Zhou Ling remained silent for a moment before slowly approaching, lifting her chin with his fingertips.
"Oh?" His tone was calm, revealing no emotion. "Why should I spare him?"
Fangru looked up at him, repeating the words that had plunged her into the abyss, word by word: "If Your Majesty will show mercy, I am willing to exchange my life for Gu Zhou's."
A faint, almost imperceptible flicker crossed Zhou Ling's eyes. He leaned down, his warm breath brushing against her ear.
"Remember what you said."
As soon as he finished speaking, it was exactly the same as in the first life.
But this time, Fangru showed no panic, no tears of humiliation, and no coy reluctance.
When he kissed her, she took the initiative to meet his kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck and responding awkwardly but firmly.
She could feel his momentary stiffness, followed by an even more intense and plundering surge.
She knew all too well the body's instinctive reactions and was intimately familiar with his every subtle preference when aroused.
He pressed her against the cushioned chaise lounge, her fingertips tracing subtle lines along his back, at a certain spot during his most intense moment…
"Well……"
A suppressed groan.
The young emperor, inexperienced in worldly affairs, ultimately failed to hold on to his throne despite her carefully calculated flattery.
(Auditors, please take a close look and see where the problem lies!!!)
Almost simultaneously, a guard's urgent and clear report came from outside the door, shattering the ambiance and intrigue of the room:
"Report! Urgent situation in the North—"
The word "report" pierced my eardrums sharply, intertwining with the unresolved issues within me.
Zhou Ling stopped moving, his breathing became heavy, and the desire in his deep eyes had not subsided, but it had instantly turned into a layer of ice.
Fangru lowered her eyelashes, her heart pounding in her chest, unsure whether it was from the intensity of the previous moment or from the fact that this gamble of fate had finally reached its most crucial step.
An urgent report from the North has arrived.
Upon hearing this, Zhou Ling did not become angry as he had in his first life; instead, a complex, dark glint flashed in his deep eyes. He silently gazed at her, then quickly straightened his disheveled robes and stood up.
"Wait here, I'll be right back." He left these words with an unquestionable command in his tone, then turned and pushed open the door, his footsteps steadily fading into the distance.
Fangru sneered inwardly.
This is the opportunity we've been waiting for!
She held her breath and, after confirming that Zhou Ling had indeed left with his entourage and that the attention of the guards around them had been diverted, she acted without hesitation.
She quickly removed the expensive brocade outer garment and several conspicuous hairpins and jewelry she had worn at the Xuanji Banquet, leaving only a simple inner garment. Like a nimble cat, she silently slipped out of the back window of Zuixianlou and disappeared into the night.
She found the hidden pawnshop from her memory, exchanged her clothes and jewelry for enough money to buy a fast horse with decent stamina.
Without looking back or disturbing her father who knew nothing about it, she spurred her horse straight toward the city gate and, with a resolute spirit, managed to slip out of the capital at the last moment before the gate closed.
However, she was well aware of Zhou Ling's methods.
After leaving the city, she decisively abandoned the horse she had originally bought. In a remote village, she used the remaining money she had, along with some "unconventional means," to "exchange" a seemingly inconspicuous but remarkably stamina-rich nag from a farmer's house.
She dared not stop for a moment, turned around, and ran wildly towards the distant Western Rong.
They endured wind and rain, traveling day and night.
Two months of turbulent travel and constant anxiety had almost exhausted all her strength.
When she finally stepped into a small town called "Tara" on the border of the Western Rong, she was already haggard and dressed in rags.
As a refugee from the Central Plains, she used her last bit of money to rent a simple mud house and settle down temporarily.
The shock had barely subsided when the strange sensation in his body could no longer be ignored.
The persistent fatigue, nausea, and... the long-awaited period.
A thought that shook her to her core emerged.
With trembling hands, she sought out an old woman in the city who had some knowledge of Central Plains medicine.
The diagnosis was like a thunderclap, exploding in her already battered heart: she was pregnant.
Based on the timeline, it must have been that night at Zuixianlou.
This realization froze her in place.
Memories, like wild beasts breaking free of their cages, pounced fiercely on her—the eighth life, the child she had personally used as a bargaining chip, a tool for escape.
She clearly remembered how she ruthlessly swallowed that abortion pill, and how she used the life that had already died before it was fully formed to stage a hemorrhage, ultimately causing Zhou Ling to experience a brief moment of pain and relaxation, which allowed her to escape.
But what happened next? He still found her.
The child's sacrifice was in vain, leaving an unhealed, guilt-ridden scar in her heart.
Cold tears slid down silently, but this time, as her fingertips unconsciously and carefully touched her still flat stomach, a determination completely different from the past emerged, like a new sprout breaking through the soil, stubbornly pushing its way out.
This life is different.
She escaped, truly escaped his control.
This time, she didn't want to sacrifice the child again.
She wanted to keep him, protect him, give birth to him safely, and raise him well in this remote border town of Xirong, far from the capital and Zhou Ling.
This was her way of making amends to the child she had never met, and also her way of once again rebelling against and taking control of her own destiny.
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