Extra 2: "Trapped Beast·Lin Wanru"
Cold Palace.
It wasn't so much a palace as it was a square, desolate courtyard. The peeling walls revealed the gray, decaying bricks and stones beneath. There wasn't a single flowering tree in the courtyard, only a few clumps of withered weeds, shivering in the chill of early spring. The air was filled with a stale, lingering musty smell, tinged with a faint hint of medicine.
Lin Wanru huddled in a tattered rattan chair by the window, wrapped in a worn cotton robe whose original color had long since faded. Her hair, once jet-black as clouds, was now dry as grass, streaked with glaring gray, and scattered haphazardly. Her cheeks were sunken, her eye sockets deep, revealing only a pair of eyes, sometimes cloudy and lifeless, sometimes emitting a terrifying, burning madness.
Outside the window, high walls blocked out all the bustle of the world, leaving only a narrow, gray sky.
"Hehe... hehe..." She suddenly laughed softly, her shoulders shaking slightly, her voice as hoarse as an old bellows, "Here you are... all of you are here... to see me make a fool of myself..."
The courtyard was deserted, with only the sound of the wind as the answer.
Her eyes were unfocused, wandering into the void, as if she was looking at a non-existent figure.
"Father..." she murmured, a hint of childish grievance in her voice, which was quickly replaced by intense resentment. "You have such a cruel heart! You sent me here... used me to consolidate your favor, used me to fight for power... If anything goes wrong, it's all my fault! I'm careless, I'm jealous, I've brought trouble upon the family... Haha, hahaha..."
She suddenly grabbed her dry hair and tore at it, tears welling up in her eyes. "I don't want this to happen! I don't want this to happen! I just want to survive and make Mom's life better... Why is it so difficult? Why are you all forcing me?!"
Fragments of memory surged in her confused mind.
She recalled the bright afternoon when she first entered the palace. Lu Qinglan sat at the head of the table, his expression gentle as he handed her a cup of fresh tea and said, "Sister Lin, you're new here, so there's no need to be so formal." At that moment, she felt a timid joy in her heart. If she could just stay content with her duties as a concubine, perhaps...
But her father's admonition immediately rang in her ears: "Wanru, remember, you are the daughter of the Lin family! The family's honor depends on you! Don't be fooled by those small favors. Fight for it! Fight for it!"
So, she put away her little joy, began to learn to read people's expressions, began to use tears and tricks to win favor, and to suppress those who might threaten her. She looked at Xiao Jingche's trust and reliance on Lu Qinglan, and the jealousy was like a poisonous snake, gnawing at her heart day and night.
"Your Majesty... Jing Che..." She muttered the name infatuatedly, her face flushing abnormally, "Why do you only see her? How am I inferior to her? I can help you, I can also..." Her voice lowered and turned into sobs, "But you... you acquiesced to them giving her poisoned wine... You are so cruel, why don't you show me even a little bit of mercy?"
She seemed to have completely forgotten that she had also framed Lu Qinglan countless times in front of Xiao Jingche. In her distorted cognition, all the faults were others', and she was just forced into it.
"And you! Lu Qinglan!" She suddenly screamed, pointing her finger randomly in the air, "Why are you pretending to be so noble! Why are you pretending to be so magnanimous! What gives you the right? Why can you be reborn? Why can you win?! I don't accept it! I don't accept it--!"
She grabbed a dry and hard steamed bun and smashed it against the wall, sending pieces of the bun flying everywhere.
The violent movement exhausted her strength. She collapsed in the rattan chair, gasping for breath, her eyes gradually becoming empty.
After an unknown amount of time, she suddenly fell silent and whispered in an unusually clear voice, chilling to the bone, as if she were talking to herself:
"They all deserve to die... Yes, they all deserve to die... Anyone who stands in my way, anyone who looks down on me, must be eliminated... Only by standing at the top can you avoid being stepped on... Mother once said that in a woman's life, she either eats others or is eaten by others..."
She repeated this survival philosophy, which she had honed in this cruel environment, but her body began to tremble uncontrollably. The biting chill of the cold palace was a constant reminder that she had finally been "eaten."
"White camellia..." She suddenly smiled foolishly again, stretched out her hand, and made a gentle gesture to caress the petals. "The white camellia that Concubine Duanhui likes... It's so beautiful... The prince said that when I finish my work, he will reward me with a pot... the biggest and best..."
That was one of the illusory promises that Prince Jing Xiao Jinghong made to her. He took advantage of her desire for honor and recognition to tie her firmly to his chariot.
Now, the person who made the promise has turned to ashes, and she is trapped in this square yard, unable to see even a real flower.
A gust of cold wind blew open the half-open shabby window frame, making a creaking sound, and blew in dust and fallen leaves.
Lin Wanru shuddered violently, her chaotic eyes suddenly becoming strangely clear for a split second. She looked at her withered, stained hands, at the cage-like courtyard, and a vast, belated sense of despair and emptiness washed over her like icy water.
She opened her mouth, as if about to say something, but in the end only a string of meaningless, broken syllables came out. The moment of clarity quickly dissipated, and her eyes became frantic and empty again.
She curled herself deeper into the wicker chair, as if this could protect her from all the cold and malice in the world.
Outside the courtyard, the faint sound of bells from a distant palace could be heard, representing the order and solemnity of the victors.
Inside the courtyard, there was only eternal silence that belonged to the losers and the forgotten.
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