Chapter 55 A Fleeting Life Accidentally Enters the Game of Chess (Part 5) "The ground is dirty, sweetie,..."
Imperial Prison.
The once dark abyss, perpetually shrouded in darkness, was suddenly illuminated by a large number of torches, making it appear even more eerie. The flickering firelight reflected the dried, blackened bloodstains on the walls and the grotesque shadows of torture instruments.
"Outrageous! To trespass into the imperial prison without His Majesty's oral decree or the Empress Dowager's imperial edict is tantamount to treason!"
The jailer's long sword clattered as it was drawn from its sheath, but froze in mid-air for a split second—
A golden token pierced the darkness, revealing the image of a dragon coiled in the heavens in his wide, terrified pupils. The dragon's body was perched on auspicious clouds, its five claws outstretched as if to tear the token out—it was none other than the "Imperial Decree of Heaven" hanging at the Emperor's waist.
The flame suddenly leaped up.
A dark gold python robe swept across the damp stone steps, the intricate gold embroidery on the hem flowing with an eerie, dark luster in the shimmering light. Chu Xi walked forward swiftly, her boots treading on the years of filth and bloodstains on the ground, yet she moved with the composure of someone walking on a jade hall's golden steps. Her profile, outlined by the firelight, was almost eerily beautiful, yet her eyes held a chilling, icy aura.
He didn't look at anyone; his gaze was like a poisoned blade, piercing straight into the cage deep in the passageway.
The sudden, intense light stung Ye Lingrou's tightly closed eyes. Terrified, she huddled in the corner, her hands bound and a rag stuffed in her mouth, only able to make weak "woo-woo" sounds.
The cell door was violently opened.
The next instant, she was pulled into a firm embrace filled with the chilling scent of ambergris by an irresistible force. The rag in her mouth was roughly but precisely ripped out and tossed aside. A deep, familiar voice came from above her head, a voice that now made her blood almost freeze:
"Rou'er, don't be afraid. I'm here."
Chu Xi lowered his head and gently began to untie the rough hemp rope from her wrist. However, the moment he focused on the knot, a sharp pain suddenly shot through his neck!
She used all her strength to bite him hard! Sharp fangs pierced his skin, and the smell of blood instantly filled the air between them.
Perhaps because of weakness, or perhaps for something else, the bite wasn't too hard. What made Chu Xi's heart suddenly burn even more than the pain was the unobstructed breath from her nose onto the sensitive skin behind his ear, a mixture of anger, fear, and despair that created an indescribable, deadly allure.
His body stiffened almost imperceptibly for a moment, then he chuckled softly. The rope was finally untied, and he scooped her up in his arms, completely ignoring the beads of blood seeping from her neck. He looked down at the girl in his arms, who was glaring at him like a wounded animal, and asked softly, "Does that make you feel better?"
With an indomitable flame burning in her eyes, Ye Lingrou hissed, "If I can't kill you today, one day I will take your life!"
"Is Rou'er so heartless that she wants to be a widow before even getting married?" Chu Xi carried her and walked steadily towards the door. The person in his arms struggled and kicked desperately, but he seemed not to feel it. He just tightened his arms and soothed her gently, but his tone carried an unquestionable control, "The ground is dirty. Be good and quiet."
"Your Highness, these prison guards..." The trusted guard following behind stepped forward half a step, asked in a low voice, his eyes sweeping over the prison guards kneeling and trembling on both sides of the passageway.
Chu Xi didn't stop walking, nor did she even glance back. Her thin lips parted slightly, uttering four cold words, like a verdict:
"Leave no survivors."
His voice wasn't loud, but it echoed clearly in the brightly lit prison corridor, like the whisper of death.
"Yes!" The guard bowed without hesitation.
Holding the still struggling Ye Lingrou, Chu Xi walked towards the exit leading to the ground without looking back. Behind her, screams and the sound of sharp blades cutting through the air suddenly rang out, only to be quickly swallowed up by the thick stone walls.
The rear hall of Cining Palace was brightly lit by candlelight.
Ye Yixiang gazed at the darkening sky outside the window, pondering how much sincerity and how much scheming lay in the Empress Dowager's words. Inside the palace, the fragrant incense wafted gently through the clear windows, but was suddenly ripped apart by a piercing, distorted scream.
"Your Majesty—Your Majesty—!"
Immediately following was Eunuch Zhang's drawn-out, mournful voice, as if grieving the loss of his parents, piercing through the layers of palace halls: "The Empress Dowager... has passed away—!"
He died?
Ye Yixiang was startled and almost instinctively lifted her skirt, rushing towards the direction from which the sound was most terrifying in the back hall. Her silk shoes trod across the polished gold bricks, her heart pounding like a drum, a heavy sense of foreboding weighing on her chest.
When she rushed into the warm chamber draped with heavy bright yellow curtains, the sight that met her eyes made her blood run cold and freeze on the spot.
A blinding crimson-gold hue descended from the high, gilded beam. It was an auspicious robe embroidered with nine dragons and nine phoenixes, symbolizing supreme honor and power, but now it was empty and lifeless.
Looking upwards, following that dazzling golden-red hue...
The woman suspended above the white silk wore a nine-dragon court crown adorned with pearls and a bright yellow robe with twelve imperial symbols. Her face was mostly obscured by her falling hair, but her eyes, which had once looked down upon the court, were now frozen with a final sense of unwillingness and determination, staring straight down.
Ye Yixiang's mind went blank for a moment, and she subconsciously took a few steps back, her back slamming heavily against the cold palace pillar before she could regain her balance. She lowered her eyes, knelt down deeply, her forehead pressed against the cold ground, and a chill instantly spread throughout her body.
According to regulations, the Empress Dowager has the power to rule from behind the curtain and manage state affairs.
The Empress Dowager, on the other hand, only managed matters concerning the inner palace and could no longer directly interfere in the affairs of the court.
This was a final roar, delivered in the most tragic and resolute way at the crossroads of power. She had ruled as regent and held absolute power during her lifetime, and now, even having lost the game, she would be buried with the dignity befitting an emperor! This extravagant attire, this act of hanging herself, were all declarations to the new emperor and the court of her inviolable dignity and the power she had never truly relinquished.
What a ruthless temperament, what a resolute choice...
Is it really impossible to enjoy a life of wealth and luxury in one's later years after abdicating, just like Emperor Jingyuan?
Ye Yixiang closed her eyes, a complex chill rising in her heart. To contend with such an opponent, victory or defeat was a matter of licking blood from the edge of a knife.
"Royal Grandmother...?"
A trembling voice filled with disbelief rang out from the palace entrance. Chu Huaili, who had removed his helmet at some point but whose armor was still on, strode into the warm pavilion.
When he saw the still figure on the beam, he was struck dumb, frozen in place. For the first time, his face, which had remained calm even in the face of a thousand troops, showed a blank expression of shock.
"Your Majesty...Your Majesty...what...what should we do..." Eunuch Zhang crawled on his knees to Chu Huaili's feet, tears streaming down his face, his voice trembling uncontrollably.
Chu Huaili seemed not to hear, his gaze fixed on the figure hanging from the beam, his Adam's apple bobbing violently a few times.
Time seemed to freeze, leaving only suppressed sobs and the howling wind outside the window. After a long while, he seemed to find his voice again, a dry, hoarse voice carrying a heavy weariness:
"According to regulations... he was buried with the honors due to a mountain mausoleum at the Emperor's Mausoleum on Wanshuo Mountain."
Ritual at the mausoleum.
Throughout history, only emperors were allowed to be buried in mausoleums, but he ultimately acknowledged this and gave his once powerful grandmother the highest honors on her final journey.
Ye Yixiang quietly raised her eyes, her gaze falling on his dark and deep profile.
He wearily raised his hand and rubbed his tense temples, as if trying to dispel the sudden heaviness and chill. Then, he casually tossed the long sword, a symbol of power and decisiveness that he had been gripping tightly in his hand, onto the carpet at his feet with a clatter, the metal scraping against the fabric with a dull sound.
His gaze swept across the hall, finally landing on Ye Yixiang kneeling in the corner. He paused slightly, as if only now truly noticing her presence.
“Arao…” He walked towards her, his steps heavy with the weight of the palace coup and a slight, almost imperceptible stagger. “So… you were here all along.”
Ye Yixiang lowered her head, her voice calm and unwavering: "Your Majesty, please accept my condolences."
Chu Huaili did not respond to her advice, but turned around and walked towards the outer hall, raising his hand to signal her to follow.
The palace servants suppressed their sobs and began to systematically yet frantically collect the Empress Dowager's belongings, preparing to tidy up her final appearance.
The air was filled with the scent of incense, tears, and an invisible, empty atmosphere.
Reaching a relatively quiet corner of the outer hall, Chu Huaili stopped, reached out and untied the heavy armor straps on his chest, removed the breastplate, and casually placed it on a nearby rosewood table.
The metal and wood collided, producing a crisp sound.
He stood with his back to Ye Yixiang, silent for a long time, so long that one could almost hear every drop of water dripping from the water clock.
“I never imagined…” he suddenly spoke, his voice low and filled with confusion and self-doubt, “that it would end like this.”
Ye Yixiang stood a step behind him, looking at the man who had just seized supreme power with swift and decisive means, yet now seemed somewhat aloof, and said softly, "For every general's success, ten thousand bones lie buried. How much more so... the path to becoming an emperor."
Her voice was soft, yet it clearly reached his ears.
Throughout history, beneath every dragon throne lies the blood of court officials and the bones of comrades.
Chu Huaili slowly turned around, his dark blue undergarment slightly damp with sweat, outlining his muscular physique. His gaze was fixed on her.
"Will you...hate me?" he asked, his voice soft yet carrying a strange weight.
Ye Yixiang was taken aback by his sudden question and lowered her eyes to avoid his direct gaze. Her tone was as respectful and distant as ever: "Your Majesty, what makes you say such a thing? This servant... is truly terrified."
"I thought you were in the Imperial Prison." Chu Huaili took a step closer, lowering his voice, which carried an eagerness to explain and revealed a deep-seated anxiety that he had never shown to anyone.
"The officials in the imperial prison, nominally obeying the Emperor, are in reality the Empress Dowager's personal tools. I worry... if she can frame you with a list today, she can find other ways tomorrow. I worry there will be a next time, I worry you'll be thrown into that dark place again, suffering endless torment..."
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