Death
Chu Yiran's life was like a candle flickering in the wind, fading day by day in the magnificent yet cold prison that was the Qianqing Palace. He and Su Jing had long since run out of things to say to each other. After their falling out that day, no matter how much Su Jing begged, he would never see him again.
Chu Yiran wanted to leave, to escape this suffocating place, but Su Jing wouldn't allow it. He was silently imprisoned here, spending his days with medicine, his time in a daze far exceeding his conscious state.
Occasionally, fragmented messages would slip through his ears like wind through a thick door crack.
Sometimes he would catch glimpses of the whispers of the palace servants in their low voices while he was in a daze.
"There are people outside again gathering to criticize the Imperial Advisor... saying he's the root of all evil..."
"His Majesty flew into a rage again today, and publicly flogged several officials who had submitted petitions requesting the punishment of the Imperial Preceptor..."
"Your Majesty, why are you doing this... You're almost making enemies of the whole world just to protect him..."
...
Sometimes it was the helpless sigh of the imperial physicians who came to take the patient's pulse—
"Jiangnan is not peaceful... I heard that some former subordinates of the former crown prince suddenly appeared the other day and caused quite a commotion, already occupying several cities..."
"His Majesty must be in a terrible predicament lately... Could it be that war is about to break out again?"
These messages, like a hazy nightmare, drifted into Chu Yiran's chaotic consciousness, failing to stir much emotion. He simply became more silent and thinner, like a jade sculpture slowly losing its last breath.
Until one day, a clear and sharp piece of news, like a poisoned ice pick, pierced his almost numb mind—the undisguised whispers of the palace servants could be heard clearly:
"His Majesty has issued an edict, bestowing the title of Empress upon the daughter of Prime Minister Shen! The wedding ceremony is set for the sixth day of next month!"
"That's wonderful... His Majesty has finally returned to the right path..."
Chu Yiran lay on the couch, his eyelids trembled slightly, but he didn't even have the strength to open them.
After that, the atmosphere in the palace seemed to become even more eerie. The palace servants who came to care for him had shifty eyes, carrying a complex mix of fear, pity, and alienation. The medicine was still delivered daily, but he felt that there seemed to be an unsettling scent in the medicine.
On a gloomy afternoon, as overcast as dusk, the tightly closed doors of the Qianqing Palace were suddenly pushed open.
It wasn't palace servants delivering medicine, nor a worried imperial physician, but a troop of imperial guards in black armor, their faces expressionless. The leader held a bright yellow imperial edict, reading it aloud in a cold, emotionless voice—
"The wicked minister Chu Yiran has spread false rumors and misled the emperor, framed loyal officials, and caused a disastrous defeat in the northern desert, resulting in the deaths of soldiers. His crimes are irrefutable. His Majesty has decreed that all titles be stripped from him, and he be immediately imprisoned and executed on a later date, in order to uphold the law and appease the people!"
Lying on the bed, Chu Yiran slowly opened his eyes. He didn't even have the strength to make any expression, only twitching the corner of his mouth very slightly and almost imperceptibly.
——
Deep within the imperial prison, cold and damp, the air thick with the stench of decaying blood, Chu Yiran leaned against the cold stone wall. Beneath his thin prison uniform, his hunched bones were clearly visible. His eyes were closed, his breathing weak, as if he had become one with the darkness.
A soft tinkling of jade pendants broke the deathly silence. Chu Yiran slowly opened his eyes and looked at Shen Ruoqing, who was dressed in brocade and adorned with pearls and jade.
Shen Ruoqing covered her nose with a silk handkerchief embroidered with gold thread, shook her head and said, "How pitiful, how did the Imperial Preceptor end up in such a state?"
Chu Yiran tugged at his chapped lips, his voice hoarse like a broken bellows, yet carrying a lingering hint of mockery: "Shen Ruoqing... considering we've finally met, let me give you one last piece of advice... following Su Jing... won't get you any benefits..."
Shen Ruoqing's smile froze, then turned into a cold sarcasm: "You're about to die, and you're still being stubborn and provocative? Chu Yiran, you know better than anyone else, so why deceive yourself?"
She stepped forward, looking down at him with sharp, clear eyes, completely unlike the gentle and naive girl she usually was: "When my cousin first ascended the throne, he faced internal and external troubles, barely having warmed his seat. In the court, the centuries-old aristocratic families, led by your Chu family, were deeply entrenched and hindered him at every turn. If he didn't first support those poor, rootless young men, led by my father, how could he break the deadlock? How could he implement new policies?"
Her voice sounded exceptionally clear and calm in the cold prison cell: "Suppressing powerful clans and eliminating dissidents like your uncles who outwardly comply but inwardly defy them is what he has to do! Only by consolidating power can he realize his ambitions! The Northern Expedition to recover lost territory is not only for the sake of the country, but also to unite the people and establish prestige! Where has he gone wrong in all of this?"
She stared into Chu Yiran's lifeless eyes and said, word by word, "The only thing he overlooked was the Battle of Mobei... and the price he paid was indeed heavy. But history is written by the victors, and only the winners write history. As long as we get through this hurdle and deal with the remnants of Su Qi's faction in Jiangnan, once the situation stabilizes in the future, all of this will just be a light stroke in the history books!"
“And you,” Shen Ruoqing’s lips curled into a cold smile, “Chu Yiran, you ‘traitorous sorcerer,’ were the one who quelled public anger, stabilized the court, and sacrificed yourself for his glorious cause… in the end, and most perfect, pawn.”
"Tell me, was his move brilliant?" she asked softly, her voice like a viper spitting its tongue.
Chu Yiran listened quietly, her face expressionless.
How could he not understand these principles? But it's precisely because he understands them so well that he feels pain!
Chu Yiran was once Su Jing's sharpest blade, cutting through all the thorns for him, but also staining him with indelible blood. Now that the country is newly established, this blade is too dangerous, too conspicuous, and too easy to become a target of public criticism, so Su Jing must break him with his own hands.
"Actually, I didn't misjudge him..." Chu Yiran chuckled. "In any case, he will at least be able to hold onto this throne."
Chu Yiran knew that although Su Jing was not a benevolent emperor, he was certainly not a cruel and indiscriminate tyrant, nor a mediocre and incompetent ruler. The current state of devastation was merely the inevitable growing pains of a change of dynasty, but unfortunately, the Chu family had become the sacrificial lamb used to pave the foundation of the new dynasty, with no room for maneuver whatsoever.
Su Jing's imperial tactics and his principles were fundamentally at odds. Not to mention their already opposing identities and stances: one a prince struggling in the mire of the deep palace, the other a noble heir born into wealth and privilege. From the very beginning, these two were destined to tear each other apart. Su Jing actually dared to dream of achieving both—not harming him, yet still accomplishing his ambitions? Truly a pipe dream.
Even though his heart was breaking, Chu Yiran remained perfectly clear-headed.
"Hehe... How interesting..." Looking at Chu Yiran's expression, Shen Ruoqing curled the corners of her lips. "Originally, I wanted to keep it from you, but now it seems that it won't matter if I tell you..."
As she spoke, Shen Ruoqing suddenly leaned down and whispered something in Chu Yiran's ear.
Seeing his composure, Shen Ruoqing raised an eyebrow: "Don't you feel heartbroken that he treated you like this?"
“Ouch…” Chu Yiran rubbed the silver hairpin in his sleeve and smiled. “So I plan to make him feel the pain too.”
"May the Imperial Advisor rest in peace."
Shen Ruoqing turned and left, the sound of her jade pendants gradually fading into the deep passageway.
The next day in the Golden Palace, looking at the poisoned wine in front of him, Chu Yiran scoffed. Ignoring the pain all over his body, he straightened his back and looked at Su Jing with a hint of mockery and smugness: "Su Jing, if there is an afterlife, I only wish that you and I... will never meet again."
As soon as he finished speaking, he took out the slender silver hairpin from his sleeve and suddenly slashed it at his neck.
This is a memento from Su Jing's deceased mother. It was given to him by Su Jing himself during the cold winter when they were trapped in Northern Qi.
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