The early summer sun, filtering through the dense foliage, cast dappled, coin-sized patterns of light onto the ground.
The most favored prince of the current dynasty, the Fourth Prince, was gifted with intelligence. He learned to read at the age of four and could compose poetry by seven. Moreover, he went to battle at fourteen, fighting with exceptional bravery and mastering the art of warfare. He routed the rebels so thoroughly that they fled in disarray, scattering their armor and weapons, thus solidifying his formidable reputation.
However, due to his delicate, almost feminine, appearance, which lacked the imposing presence to intimidate enemy forces, he often wore a fearsome mask during combat.
At this time, the Fourth Prince was only sixteen years old.
—
The Hall of Chengqian.
Yellow walls and red tiles, surrounded by weeping willows.
Brocades of flowers, exuding opulence and nobility.
Rockeries intertwined, the lake water clear, lotus flowers tender and beautiful. Occasionally, young maids would pass through, their footsteps incredibly light, their conversations equally subdued.
Patches of fragmented sunlight streamed through the intricately carved lattice windows. Beside the couch lay several volumes of military and civilian treatises. On a rosewood cabinet nearby hung a treasured sword. Its scabbard was gilded, and its hilt was inlaid with sparkling, dazzling gemstones.
“Fourth Prince!”
“Fourth Prince!”
A delicate-faced young eunuch rushed over breathlessly. Running too fast, he tripped and fell hard. He scrambled back to his feet with practiced agility, not daring to delay for a moment.
In the study, the person leaning against the couch propped their forehead with one hand. A purple-gold crown confined a cascade of ink-black hair, their countenance exquisitely beautiful, as if woven from the very essence of distant mountains and the clear waters of spring.
Their eyebrows and eyes were like shadows cast by scattered blossoms on clear water, their subtle fragrance wafting in the air.
Beneath one eye, a beauty mark, tinged with red like cinnabar.
Their lips, vibrant and full, like the tender flesh of fragrant fruit.
Hearing the sound, their eyelashes, like butterfly wings, quivered slightly, rousing the imperial noble from their repose.
Slowly, they opened their eyes, black as an abyss, unfathomably deep, as if holding within them the chill of ice. They cast a cool glance at the young eunuch kneeling on the ground, their gaze neither heavy nor light, yet possessing an extraordinary pressure.
“Fourth Prince, something terrible has happened!” The eunuch’s fair, delicate face was flushed red with urgency. He crawled and knelt beside the prince, reaching out to grasp a corner of the silk brocade. “Eunuch Li, from the Emperor’s side, has arrived and said that His Majesty, His Majesty requests your presence. I heard, Sire, that the Crown Prince is also there.”
Their jade-white fingertips gently tapped the beauty mark beneath their eye. They listlessly lowered their gaze, their red lips, pale skin, and the darkness in their eyes like a still pool of dead water.
“You may withdraw for now.”
The lazy, magnificent voice held a hint of huskiness, sending a ripple of languid pleasure.
The young eunuch’s ears twitched. Knowing that the Fourth Prince had already come to a decision, he bowed his head once on the ground before retreating.
Shen Yue shifted her position on the soft couch, silently accepting the unfolding narrative.
This novel’s primary focus was on schemes of power. Shen Yue’s current identity was that of a person capable in both literature and martial arts, a paragon of intellect and strategy, whose fame was known from north to south, recognized by all. By all accounts, such a person should have been destined for the throne.
However, Shen Yue was a woman, for one.
Secondly, Shen Yue possessed a cruel disposition and a twisted mentality. She regarded human lives as no more than ants or weeds, utterly unconcerned with the lives of her subjects.
If she were truly to ascend the throne, it was likely that the populace would suffer immensely.
The male protagonist of this novel was the seventh prince, Shen Yaojin. He was born under auspicious signs, with purple clouds ascending into the sky as if accompanied by the roar of dragons. Some had divined his fate, declaring him to possess the aura of an emperor, the destined Crown Prince of the Great Qin.
Yet, when he was born, he was a fool. Initially, this was not apparent, but as he grew older, while children his age were learning to walk, he still crawled on the ground. When others could run, he could barely manage to walk on his legs, and his intelligence ultimately remained at the level of a ten-year-old.
Despite this great disappointment, Shen Yaojin did not suffer the Emperor’s cold shoulder. On the contrary, he was the most favored, receiving a level of affection that other princes could only dream of.
While Shen Yue and the Crown Prince were locked in a bitter struggle, Shen Yaojin, being deemed a fool, was overlooked by everyone. Through a series of coincidences, his mind was healed, but he did not reveal this, instead feigning weakness to bide his time and reap the benefits.
And Shen Yue, in the end, met her death by being pierced by ten thousand arrows.
Shen Yue’s entire life was tragic.
Her imperial consort mother, in her desperate bid for the Emperor’s favor, resorted to any means necessary, even conceiving the idea of the original host disguising herself as a man. That woman was both vicious and foolish, driving herself to madness within the confines of the deep palace. In one particularly heinous act, she publicly pushed a pregnant concubine into a lotus pond. The Emperor was enraged and had her banished to the cold palace.
In the cold palace, the woman’s mind deteriorated further. When lucid, she was as gentle to the original host as a loving mother; when mentally unstable, she would lash out with beatings. No matter how well the original host performed, the reward was merely a brutal thrashing.
Those in the palace were all sycophants. When one held power, they were revered like ancestors; when they fell into decline, they became like dogs, trampled upon by anyone.
This was true even for princes.
In the end, that madwoman hanged herself with a white silk sash, her feet kicking out, dying without a care.
And the pitiable original host, in the dark imperial chambers, found a white silk sash hanging from the roof beam. A woman in white was suspended from it, her hair unbound, like a soul-binding specter.
She spent a cold night with the dead. At that time, the original host was barely four years old.
This scene left a profound scar on her young psyche.
Later, the original host was adopted by another concubine. While that concubine appeared gentle and doting, treating her as her own child, in reality, she was neglectful and, when in a bad mood, would either lash out physically or unleash vicious verbal abuse.
Even passing eunuchs could afford to step on her.
Having grown up in such a dark environment, the original host’s psyche had long since become twisted.
Within her heart lay a slumbering beast, and when it erupted, it would herald a day of blood staining the imperial palace.
Such a person, if they were truly to ascend the throne, would be a great calamity for the realm, leading to widespread suffering and misery.
It was no secret that the Fourth Prince and the Crown Prince were at odds. Just yesterday, the Fourth Prince and the Crown Prince had a dispute, and he had accidentally pushed the Crown Prince into the lake. This matter had reached the Emperor’s ears, and he was likely coming to admonish them.
While outsiders believed the Fourth Prince enjoyed the Emperor’s favor, it was merely a facade.
The Crown Prince was growing daily, supported by the Prime Minister and the Great General of Zhenguo. Coupled with his exceptional abilities and ambitions, and the Emperor’s own advanced age, how could one man sleep soundly on the imperial couch while another coveted it?
Even his own sons might harbor such aspirations.
At this juncture, it was necessary to curb the Crown Prince’s arrogance by leveraging the Fourth Prince.
The Fourth Prince lacked the support of a maternal clan, standing alone. Although he possessed half of the tiger tally, he could still contend with the Crown Prince to a stalemate.
As long as these two sons vied against each other, the Emperor could rest easy.
The imperial family was always a place of churning storms and treacherous currents. The allure of the supreme throne was too great; everyone yearned for it, and fratricide was not uncommon.
The imperial palace, indeed, was a place that devoured people without spitting out bones.