A delicate voice sounded.
In fact, in the grand hall, mother and daughter sat facing each other, drinking tea and eating pastries. Mo Chou and Bing Xiao, who were serving them, interjected from time to time.
"Your Majesty, please spare the princess this once."
"Hmph, if you offend again, I will absolutely not forgive you," Qingyao bit into a crispy pastry. For several days, she hadn't been able to eat or sleep well. Tonight, she ate a little because she planned to sneak into the Laundry Bureau to rescue the Emperor.
"Mother, I understand."
Little Yu'er, full from eating, lazily sat aside and responded casually.
She lacked spirit entirely, for the little fox had died, and the lingering sorrow in her heart remained. Even with news of her father the Emperor, she couldn't fully unburden herself.
The night grew deeper, a thin mist enshrouding the entire imperial palace, making the world hazy. Distant and near palace lanterns swayed, distant and spectral.
In the sky, sparse stars were scattered, their dim light falling and reflecting in the mist, making it particularly desolate.
Late autumn, the night wind was cool and thin. Occasionally, eunuchs and palace maids walked by with quick footsteps. Their thin palace robes, moving through the night, felt chilly. They held lanterns in one hand and blew on their other hands for warmth.
The breath quickly condensed into light frost, freezing on their fingertips, making them colder and more chilled.
In the dark night, two or three dark figures streaked by, as fast as phantoms, flashing past as if one’s eyes had blurred in a momentary daze.
Several figures walked silently, heading towards the Laundry Bureau at the very back of the palace.
Without disturbing anyone, these individuals seemed to be born of the night’s spirit, blending into the darkness.
The Laundry Bureau, with its low houses, beside an empty well, willow catkins danced, and withered leaves rolled, swept by from time to time.
It was utterly silent now. The low-ranking palace servants, tired from the day’s work, had likely already fallen asleep.
Bing Xiao had thoroughly scouted the palace positions during this time and knew the direction of the Laundry Bureau, leading the way.
Soon, they passed a row of low houses, traversed a chaotic cluster of green stones, and faintly glimpsed the messy, abandoned structures.
A single lamp flickered and swayed in the cold night wind, like a ghost fire from the netherworld, arriving across ages. Accompanied by rustling sounds, even the brave and careful would feel a shiver down their spine, let alone the timid. Who would dare come to such a place…
As the lamplight flickered, figures seemed to pass by.
Bing Xiao waved her hand and said calmly, "Mistress, let's go. It seems to be that room."
With that, she glided forward, and the two shadows behind her followed suit, silently moving towards the haunted house.
As expected, someone was guarding outside. Two old women sat on a large bluestone beside the house, chatting and cursing intermittently.
“This ghastly weather is truly terrifying, for us to be guarding here.”
“It’s considered a leisurely job, not as hard as those washing clothes.”
The other old woman said with a dry laugh. The two chatted idly, discussing the person locked inside the house.
“How did this fellow offend the Empress?”
“Don’t know. Could she have a lover? I don’t think he’s an eunuch.”
The two whispered mysteriously. Bing Xiao extended her hand, knocked out the two old women, and signaled her mistress to enter the room in the farthest east, the one with the lantern.
The wooden door creaked open. The space inside was not large and had no clutter, only a frame.
At this moment, a person was chained to the frame, a disheveled individual whose messy hair covered their face, making them unrecognizable. They hung motionlessly, head bowed.
Qingyao stepped forward and stopped, tentatively calling out, "Liu Zun, Liu Zun, is that you?"
Her voice held a tremor. What if he really was Liu Zun?
As this thought arose, a piercing pain shot through her chest. Even Bing Xiao and Mo Chou frowned. Was this the Emperor? If so, it was too tragic. The person was chained by the hands and feet.
Because they had been chained for too long, there were dark bloodstains on their wrists and ankles, seemingly from prolonged chafing, the blood turned black.
No matter who this person was, how much suffering they had endured. Xi Men Xin Yue, that wicked woman, truly wrought wickedness. What if this person was the Emperor?
The eyes of the three women instantly became misty, staring uniformly at the figure. But the person remained motionless, as if asleep or unconscious.
Time was pressing. Qingyao turned to look at Mo Chou beside her and calmly commanded, "Break the chains."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Mo Chou obeyed. Her weapon was a sharp sword that could cleave iron. The sword flashed, and with a clang, the chains broke, falling to the ground.
The man on the frame slowly lowered his arms. His head swayed, seemingly very uncomfortable, and he muttered something unintelligible.
Qingyao walked over and extended her slender, delicate jade hand, intending to part his hair to see who he was. But before her hand could touch the person’s hair, her body was abruptly thrown to the ground by a powerful gust of wind.
The disheveled man, whose face was hidden, sat on her entire body. From his messy black hair, a pair of eyes were vaguely visible, fierce and resentful like a wolf or a leopard, shooting cold, bloodthirsty light at her.
His hands tightly gripped Qingyao’s neck. He seemed to have gone mad, emitting beast-like whimpers.
The situation before them was entirely beyond everyone's expectations. Mo Chou and Bing Xiao were shocked. Seeing their unprepared mistress being choked until her face turned pale and she struggled to breathe, they quickly stepped forward, two on either side, to pull the man’s arms, coldly shouting.
"Let go, let go, what are you doing?"
Qingyao’s own hands instinctively went to pull his large hands. His grip was powerful, and he seemed to have lost all consciousness, his mind unclear, only knowing to keep choking her with all his might.
However, from his vaguely visible black hair, she had recognized this person. Could it really be the Emperor?
Seeing Bing Xiao reach out as if to knock him out, Qingyao struggled to stop her, "No, he is the Emperor."
As her voice fell, Bing Xiao froze. Mo Chou also stood stunned. How had the Emperor become like this? He didn't even recognize their mistress, and he was about to choke her to death.
Qingyao looked at him, her eyes clear and serene, emitting a gentle radiance. She spoke softly, "Liu Zun, don't you remember me? Don't you really remember me? It's my fault for letting you suffer so much. I've come to save you."
As she spoke, a tear rolled down her eye. Her tear caused the man who was tightly gripping her neck to loosen his hold slightly, and her breathing became somewhat unobstructed. She heard the man's rough, hoarse voice ask, "Who am I?"
He didn't even know who he was, Qingyao thought in shock and anger.
What had they done to him? Heaven was truly too cruel. What had they done to him, turning the most domineering and uninhibited man in the world into someone who couldn't even recognize people?