Chapter 78
On the 25th day of the first lunar month, Cao Xun swaggered out of Beijing, his confidence as sharp as his tongue. With a smirk, he'd boasted to erase the young emperor's obsession with Yunzhu in a mere five days.
But Yunzhu wasn't so easily swayed. She could feel the emperor's patience already wearing thin, and yet, the "what ifs" clawed at her like restless shadows. She knew better than to sit idle. Timing was everything.
Feigning sickness? That was child's play-especially with Cao Xun's absence leaving her an opening wide enough to slip through unnoticed. By the next morning, she lay pale and fragile, all moans and restless sighs. The doctor arrived, took one look at her bloodless face and sleepless eyes, and was quick to prescribe calming medicine for her "delicate" condition.
Pan Shi didn't buy the act for a second. His return brought no comfort, only a sneer that cut through the room like a knife. "War is no foreign ground for men like us, Yunzhu," he drawled, his words dripping condescension. "Yet here you are-anxious and caged-still haunted by battles fought long ago. You hide in mountains like a bird too afraid to fly. But hear me: your worries are wasted. Your grandfather was a god among warriors; his legend carved into the bones of this empire. You were a child then, so I don't blame you for trembling at the thought of what's ahead. While your kin lounge in the capital's gilded arms, you've known nothing but silence and isolation. No wonder your heart stirs restlessly."
Yunzhu, unfazed, narrowed her gaze. "Be sure the palace hears of this," she replied coolly, dismissing his words with a sharp flick of her wrist.
Feigning fury, she packed her things and stormed off with Lian Qiao and Shiliu, retreating to her parents' home to "recover." Pan Shi, though secretly amused by her little drama, couldn't shake a sliver of concern. "The girl's trouble," he muttered later to his wife. "Clearly she's unraveling. I tried to offer some comfort, but I must've struck the wrong chord. Thank heavens she's not tied to us by blood-any deeper involvement would be too messy to untangle."
But Empress Dowager Cao-cunning as ever-knew better than to waste her breath on trivial theatrics. She'd seen Yunzhu and her mother play this game before and found no reason to get involved.
The young Emperor Qianxing, however, wasn't so detached. He made a point of visiting, claiming concern for his delicate, beautiful aunt in the wake of his uncle's departure. Ever opportunistic, Pan Shi seized the moment to drop well-placed hints about Yunzhu's behavior, lecturing the emperor about the virtues of a woman's character when considering a concubine.
The emperor nodded as though listening, but his mind clung to something else: "Aunt Beauty was sick because she worried about his uncle heading off to war."
To Qianxing, this was no surprise. His aunt had always appeared fragile, a delicate bloom too tender for the harsh winds of life. Even now, from her sickbed, she fretted for his uncle's expedition. It was all so tragically beautiful.
But as he listened, his thoughts turned sharp, focused. This was not about sickness, nor concern, nor war. He knew his desires were dangerous-wickedly forbidden, a thrill laced with risk.
To claim her would require more time, more preparation, and above all, discretion. He could not let his mother's watchful eyes, his uncle's pride, or the ministers' tongues catch wind of his plans.
The taboo only made him want her more. There was no joy in easy conquest; true pleasure lay in overcoming the impossible, tasting the forbidden, and savoring every shiver of excitement as he did so. The game was set, and Emperor Qianxing could already feel the fire smoldering, his hunger sharpening with every passing day.
*
Meng Shi never truly wanted her daughter running back to her parents' house too often. It wasn't because she didn't love her-God knows she did-but frequent visits would inevitably invite judgment, sharp words, and wagging tongues.
But when Meng Shi caught sight of her daughter's pale face, hollow eyes, and that bone-deep exhaustion, something broke inside her. All those petty concerns about gossip melted away. Her daughter looked like a candle burnt too low, and Meng Shi would be damned if she let her suffer in silence.
As the night settled like a heavy cloak, Meng Shi slipped into her daughter's room. She wouldn't let this young woman, still so tender and raw, spiral into restless nights full of dark thoughts. She perched at the edge of the bed, her fingers brushing the damp curls from her daughter's face as she murmured, her voice a mix of warmth and steel, "Silly girl, haven't you borne enough already? Why do you still carry this weight like the world is yours alone to hold?"
That was all it took. Yunzhu crumpled, her fragile composure shattering as she buried herself into her mother's lap. The sobs tore out of her, raw and unguarded, trembling against Meng Shi's steady presence. She wasn't afraid of bargaining with the young emperor-that wasn't the terror gripping her chest. No, it was his bottomless greed, the haunting fear that his insatiable ambition might rip her family apart like an unrelenting storm.
Meng Shi's heart twisted at the sight. God, how well she knew that look-the quiet desperation that haunted women whose lives were tied to men fighting battles far from home. Her mind flickered back to the year before last, when her husband prepared to march to war. She'd felt it too: that same dread gnawing at her soul, the endless nights staring into the dark, asking the silence for mercy.
How, then, could she demand anything less from her twenty-year-old daughter? A child, really, shouldering the burden of a wife with a warrior for a husband. Stroking Yunzhu's hair, Meng Shi murmured low, her words edged with fierce resolve, "Enough, my girl. Fushan is a force to reckon with. The Japanese pirates don't stand a chance-he'll be back before you know it. Mighty men don't fall so easily."
But even as she offered that comfort, Meng Shi made no move to leave. The thought of her daughter crying herself to sleep, alone, made her stomach twist with guilt. No, she would stay right here tonight.
*
The thirtieth day of the first lunar month was still a holiday, and the young Emperor Qianxing, with his boundless energy and insatiable boredom, was already restless.
At thirteen, he was far more interested in fleeting pleasures than scholarly duties. Even the cats-adorable as they were-had lost their allure. With little care for propriety or patience, he summoned Eunuch Wan, a trio of loyal companions, and the cluster of young eunuchs always hovering nearby. Lounging in decadent boredom, the emperor's voice cut through the air, sharp and demanding:
"Well? What amusement will keep me entertained today?"
Yesterday's kite-flying had been a fleeting distraction, now forgotten.
Eunuch Wan, who had been at the young emperor's beck and call for more than half a year, was running dangerously low on clever ideas. He plastered on a smile and clapped his hands toward the younger eunuchs, his voice both teasing and instructive:
"Move quickly now! It's not every day His Majesty asks for your ideas. Impress him while you can-or risk being forgotten."
The boys fidgeted nervously, their minds racing. They knew too well the dangers of overstepping with their suggestions. What might delight this capricious ruler could just as easily draw the wrath of the Empress Dowager if she caught wind of their antics. And if that happened? The young emperor wouldn't lift a finger to defend them.
In that anxious silence, a teenage eunuch-seventeen or eighteen at most-dared to lift his gaze. Xiao Shunzi, unassuming as ever, hesitated for only a moment before murmuring, "This servant may have thought of something Your Majesty will enjoy."
The emperor, eyebrow cocked, eyed him with sudden interest. "Xiao Shunzi? You of all people have something to suggest?"
He regarded the boy with mild curiosity. Xiao Shunzi was the quiet sort-the kind who never cried even when berated, never begged for mercy. Steadfast and stubborn, there was something almost steely beneath his calm exterior.
Xiao Shunzi turned his gaze to the window and began. "My hometown lies in Liaodong. During the cold seasons, the villagers take great pleasure in ice fishing."
The emperor's sharp reply came almost immediately: "Nonsense! How does one fish from frozen water?"
Unshaken, Xiao Shunzi explained, his voice measured but enticing. "It's true, Your Majesty, the task requires labor. First, we cut a hole in the ice. The fish-trapped beneath it all winter-are starved for fresh air and light. The moment the hole opens, they rush upward in desperation. You wouldn't believe how many can be caught at once-fat, gleaming fish that have waited all winter to surface."
Qianxing, always lured by novelty and the promise of spectacle, sat upright, his eyes now glittering with intrigue. "Ice fishing? Now that's something I've never seen. Very well! I'll indulge you-lead the way at once!"
Xiao Shunzi, ever composed, bowed slightly. "Your Majesty, no need to rush. The ice-cutting takes time and effort. You would do better to stay warm indoors while preparations are made. I'll send for you when all is ready."
But Qianxing was already on his feet, a sharp grin splitting his face. "Nonsense! I'll see it for myself. I want to watch the ice being cut!"
There was no arguing with him. Xiao Shunzi could do nothing but nod and accept the emperor's impulsive decree.
The preparations began, with Emperor Qianxing-his excitement palpable-heading out with his entourage toward the palace's inner lake. The imperial guards, scrambling at the last minute, assigned Yang Dong to oversee and personally escort the young ruler.
With the tools primed and ready, Xiao Shunzi turned to Emperor Qianxing, his voice steady but insistent: "Your Majesty, wait here on the shore." Without another word, he hefted a massive ice hammer onto his shoulder and marched purposefully toward the center of the inner lake. The air was biting, the ice thick and unforgiving, but Xiao Shunzi knew exactly where to strike. Selecting a spot with practiced precision, he began pounding away, each heavy swing of the hammer resonating with deliberate force.
From afar, Emperor Qianxing squinted at the scene, visibly unimpressed. Watching from a distance wasn't his idea of entertainment, so he gathered his attendants and strode closer, curiosity outweighing the cold. The blows echoed across the frozen lake, and each crack of the hammer sent shards of clear, crystalline ice scattering into the air-sharp, dazzling, and oddly beautiful.
Not content to simply observe, Emperor Qianxing stepped up, grabbed the hammer for himself, and delivered a few satisfying strikes before his energy waned. Growing restless, he abandoned the effort and opted for a more indulgent pursuit. He seated himself atop a wooden cart and, with a mischievous grin, barked at two young eunuchs to yank him forward across the ice. "Faster, faster!" he called, like a spoiled child who knew exactly how much power he wielded.
The winter games carried on like this more than once, the biting cold punctuated by laughter and the rhythmic scrape of blades. Back in Cining Palace, word reached Empress Dowager Cao's ears, though she chose, wisely or otherwise, to turn a blind eye-at least for now. February would bring the thaw, and with it, her tolerance would end.
Meanwhile, Xiao Shunzi was a man of focus and formidable strength. In the span of a single stick of incense, his relentless strikes had carved an ice hole wide and deep, gaping like the mouth of a well. The sun, diffused and pale in its winter weakness, spilled through the hole, casting a soft, almost ethereal glow onto the glistening cavern below. Beneath the thick ice, the lake's water rippled lazily, carrying a chill that seemed to whisper secrets to anyone who dared linger.
Settled comfortably on a stool, Emperor Qianxing cast a line into the frigid depths, attempting to fish. But patience, he found, was a cruel tease. Boredom set in quickly, and before long, he tossed the rod aside, his mind drifting back to skating.
Xiao Shunzi, ever practical and a touch exasperated, looked up and warned him firmly: "Your Majesty, you'll scare the fish. Skate somewhere else-farther away-if you want any of them to surface." The message landed. With a huff, Emperor Qianxing motioned to his retinue, and they glided off to a safer distance, leaving Xiao Shunzi to his solitary task.
Down on one knee, Xiao Shunzi readied the fishing rod, his movements measured, deliberate. A net bag lay at his side, waiting for the inevitable catch. Time passed-two quarters of an hour, to be exact-before a sudden movement caught Emperor Qianxing's sharp eye. Seated on his cart, he noticed Xiao Shunzi straightening abruptly, excitement flashing across his usually stoic face. Then came the shout: "Look here! There's something worth seeing!"
The words ignited something in Emperor Qianxing, who wasted no time. "Go, go, go!" he ordered, urging the eunuchs to haul him forward with all the haste their legs could manage. As they neared, Xiao Shunzi's gestures turned frantic but calculated. He pointed to his ears, then to his feet-a silent plea for quiet.
Emperor Qianxing's brow furrowed in understanding. Whatever stirred beneath the ice was wary, sensitive to the slightest vibration. Maybe it was a rare, giant fish-a creature worth claiming. The wooden carts halted, footsteps ceased, and all eyes fell on the black depths of the icy hole, the air thick with anticipation.
The Emperor, Qianxing, commanded silence and stillness, his eyes sharp, his movements as subtle as a predator on the prowl. He advanced, slow and deliberate, like a shadow in the night.
Eunuch Wan and Yang Dong couldn't resist the pull, trailing close behind, their curiosity burning. But when they neared Xiao Shunzi, just a step away from the ice hole, the older man gave them a sharp shake of his head-an unspoken command to halt.
Qianxing shot them both a cold glare, silencing any further movement. His steps became more cautious, more deliberate, as he inched closer to the icy abyss before him. Xiao Shunzi, his eyes glued to the young emperor, held a desperation in them-an almost painful desire for acknowledgment.
Reaching the hole, Qianxing peered into the dark void below. His surprise was palpable, eyes widening, but before he could fully register the shock, Xiao Shunzi was upon him. His hand shot out to grab the Emperor's arm, holding him steady.
Wan Gonggong and Yang Dong watched with narrowed eyes, their assumptions spinning. They saw Xiao Shunzi's touch as mere precaution-just steadying Qianxing from a potential fall. They couldn't have been more wrong.
Xiao Shunzi sidled closer, his voice a sultry whisper, barely audible against the deafening silence. "Your Majesty, do you remember Qingtao?" he purred, a hint of something far darker beneath the question.
Before the Emperor could process the words, the small man-seemingly frail but with a strength that betrayed him-acted. In one swift move, he shoved Qianxing, sending the young emperor plunging into the waiting maw of the ice hole.
"Emperor!" Wan's voice split the air, a desperate cry. Yang Dong shot forward, a blur of motion, eyes locked on the falling figure.
It was chaos in motion. As Wan howled, Xiao Shunzi dove in after Qianxing, his body a missile, and in a heartbeat, he pinned the Emperor beneath the freezing water, denying him the surface he clawed for. The Emperor thrashed wildly, but Xiao Shunzi was relentless, the predator in him holding Qianxing under with the precision of a trained killer. His hand slipped into his sleeve, producing an ice pick that gleamed wickedly in the dim light. Without hesitation, he drove the sharp tip into Qianxing's abdomen, the sickening crunch of flesh giving way to the cold metal sending a thrill through him.
A grin spread across Xiao Shunzi's face as he saw Yang Dong, wild-eyed, plummeting toward the ice hole, but it was too late. Releasing his grip on the bloodied Emperor, he watched Qianxing sink deeper, the water now a macabre embrace. Xiao Shunzi followed him down.
Breathing grew ragged, his body jerking with the cold, but through the haze, Xiao Shunzi thought he saw her-Qingtao. Her face, a fragile smile lingering on her lips, haunted him even now. The girl he had once thought of as a simple companion, a naive casualty in his path, was now his burning reason. The cruelty of the Emperor had shattered her, had ended her life under the whip.
He had once believed his position among the Emperor's inner circle was a blessing, a stroke of fate. But that naïve dream had been shattered, leaving behind only the bitter ash of daily torment. The Emperor's rage had scarred them all, but it had killed her.
Now, Xiao Shunzi was ready to see that Qianxing paid the price for his cruelty. Nothing else mattered.
*
Shivering violently, barely holding onto what little consciousness remained, Emperor Qianxing was dragged to the shore by Yang Dong, each movement slow and tortured. The biting cold, searing pain, and overwhelming terror gnawed at the young emperor's frail mind, rendering him mute, a mere shell of the ruler he was expected to be. His lips quivered, teeth rattling in a dance of vulnerability that no emperor should ever show, a stark betrayal of his stoic, imperial façade. Without a moment's hesitation, they rushed him back to the Qianqing Palace, urgency thick in the air.
Young eunuchs scrambled, their hurried footfalls ringing out as they desperately sought the imperial doctor and scrambled to alert the Empress Dowager.
When the dreadful news reached her, it shattered Empress Dowager Cao. Weakness surged through her, but she quickly fought it off, managing to drag herself upright, her heart pounding as she rushed toward Qianqing Palace, a storm of fear and fury in her chest.
Inside the palace, the emperor lay motionless, his complexion a sickly white, his skin flushed with fever. Whether it was the blood loss or the relentless cold that did this to him was still a mystery.
The sight of him sent a fresh wave of panic coursing through the Queen Mother. His hand, cold as ice, felt like a slap of reality. She could feel the terror rising in her throat as she gazed at his deathly pale face, the very image of fragility. Her eyes welled with unshed tears, her body trembling in helpless anguish.
But then, with a monumental effort, the Empress Dowager composed herself. Her voice cut through the tension like a sharp blade, firm and resolute. "This is an assassination attempt, I have no doubt!" she declared, her words burning with conviction. "Summon Cao Xun, His Majesty's uncle, back to the capital-NOW!"
The elder brother-the very one who stood as the center of both mother and son's power in confronting the Japanese pirates-would not leave until her son was well. Only then would they reveal the true, monstrous face of their enemies.