Even willfulness has its limits!
Yan Yunting burned with rage. He wanted Zhao Yang to know that if she refused to be his wife, there were plenty of other women willing to take her place.
Zhao Yang had no patience for his nonsense. With a graceful lift of her delicate hand, her guards immediately drew their swords and escorted Yan Yunting out of the princess’s residence.
"Don’t you dare regret this!" Yan Yunting raised his voice.
Zhao Yang rolled her eyes in disdain.
Standing disheveled beside the stone lions outside the princess’s residence, Yan Yunting clenched his jaw, then abruptly turned and strode toward the palace gates.
...
...
The next morning, at the auspicious hour,
Princess Zhao Yang, clad in resplendent wedding attire, bowed to heaven and earth, then to the emperor and the empress dowager. She cast a deep, sorrowful glance at her mother and elder brother, suppressing the ache in her heart, before turning to step into the carriage.
The procession stretched grandly as it departed the capital of Yanjing.
Crowds of commoners lined the streets to bid her farewell, many secretly wiping away tears.
Over the years, Princess Zhao Yang had been known for her generosity—providing aid to the poor, sheltering orphans—earning her immense goodwill among the people. Even after her carriage left the imperial city, some citizens voluntarily escorted her along the way. Hundreds of orphans from Anguo Temple, clutching flowers, chased after the procession with tearful eyes.
"Safe travels, Sister Princess!"
"Wuwuwu... When I grow up, I’ll definitely visit you in Yue Kingdom!"
"Sister Princess, don’t go! I promise I’ll study hard..."
The children sobbed as they ran after the convoy.
Only after reaching the Ten-Mile Pavilion did the crowd gradually disperse.
As Yanjing faded into the distance, Zhao Yang sat in the lavish red carriage, wiping away the tears that stung her eyes. She was now alone, facing an uncertain future.
The bright spring sun of May streamed through the carriage curtains. When Zhao Yang lifted the curtain, she spotted a black horse trotting alongside. Upon it sat a strikingly handsome guard.
Their eyes met.
Zhao Yang was stunned—he was still dressed in a guard’s uniform, willingly disguising himself as an ordinary escort.
Softly, she asked, "You... why haven’t you returned to the envoy?"
Tuoba Hongchuan, now in the guise of a guard, smiled. "I wish to accompany you all the way to the capital of Yue Kingdom."
Zhao Yang tightened her grip on the red embroidered handkerchief in her hands, lowering her gaze. For some reason, her heart felt steadier.
...
Upon the city walls of Yanjing, Li Yuanjing and a host of imperial relatives stood watching as the long procession disappeared into the distance, until not a trace of red remained in sight.
The empress dowager, dressed in magnificent robes, wept uncontrollably.
The empress, standing beside Li Yuanjing, glanced sideways at the grieving dowager, a faint smirk playing on her lips.
For years, the empress dowager had looked down on her, constantly finding fault and punishing her. The empress had long harbored resentment.
Now, seeing the dowager’s pitiful, sickly state, she felt nothing but satisfaction.
Serves her right!
The wind atop the walls was fierce, chilling to the bone.
Le You, who had been staying close to the empress dowager, gently tugged at her sleeve and comforted her in a childish voice, "Grandmother, don’t cry. If Aunt Zhao Yang knew you were sad, she’d be heartbroken too. I’ll stay with you every day so you won’t be lonely."
The empress dowager stroked Le You’s chubby little face. The young child bore a slight resemblance to Zhao Yang in her youth.
Touched, the dowager said hoarsely, "You’re such a good child."
One by one, the imperial family descended from the walls and returned to Daqing Palace.
Shen Wei, however, felt a sharp pain in her head as she stepped down, her chest tight and uncomfortable.
Lately, she had been exhausted—first overseeing Zhao Yang’s dowry, then worrying about Shen Mieyue and Shen Xiuming’s promotions. Now, after standing in the wind for hours, she felt dizzy and weak.
Back in Yongning Palace, Shen Wei slumped onto a chaise lounge, too listless to eat.
Cai Lian hurriedly summoned the imperial physician.
The physician entered cautiously, carefully taking Shen Wei’s pulse before speaking. "Noble Consort Shen, your pulse is wiry and rapid, with heat trapped in your liver and lungs. These are symptoms of mild poisoning."
Shen Wei’s eyes flew open.
Poisoned?!
Cai Lian paled in shock.
Shen Wei’s mind reeled. Since her return to the palace, Yongning Palace had been tightly guarded. Every meal passed through her most trusted hands—there should have been no opportunity for anyone to poison her.
How could this happen?
Who had such skill to slip poison into her system unnoticed? The empress? Consort Shu? The emperor himself?
Cai Lian anxiously asked, "Physician, what poison has my mistress ingested? Is there an antidote?"
The physician lowered his head and explained, "Noble Consort, you have been consuming large quantities of contraceptive decoction. All medicine carries some toxicity, and prolonged use of such a brew harms the body."
Shen Wei frowned.
So it was the contraceptive decoction...
Since her return, Li Yuanjing had spent nearly every night in her chambers. Reunited after years apart, his vigor was relentless, forcing her to drink the bitter concoction frequently.
"But I’ve only been back for less than a month. How could the poison accumulate so quickly?" Shen Wei wondered aloud.
During her three years on Donghua Mountain, she had trained rigorously, building a strong constitution.
Yet within weeks of returning, after barely a dozen doses, toxins had already settled in her body?
Something wasn’t right. Shen Wei ordered Cai Lian to fetch the remaining herbs. The physician sifted through the mixture, picking out two tiny fragments.
"This herb was doubled in dosage, accelerating the poisoning," he said.
Shen Wei’s gaze turned icy.
She had been careless.
The contraceptive herbs had always come from the imperial pharmacy. To obscure her intentions, she often requested additional medicinal ingredients. Yet someone had still managed to tamper with the formula.
Consort Shu? The empress? Another concubine?
"Can this poison be treated?" Shen Wei suppressed her fury.
The physician replied, "This humble one studied in the Valley of the Medicine King. My skills are unparalleled—I can purge the toxins from your body and prepare a unique contraceptive decoction. It will be highly effective, minimally harmful, and even beautify your complexion."
Shen Wei blinked in disbelief.
Such arrogance—to call himself "unparalleled in skill"!
She studied the kneeling physician. Dressed in gray-blue robes with an official’s cap, his head was bowed, revealing only a pale chin. His voice was youthful, suggesting he couldn’t be very old.
"Look up," Shen Wei commanded.
The physician slowly raised his head.
His face was refined, his eyes dark and bright.
Shen Wei gasped, stunned to see a familiar face. "M-Mo the Divine Physician?! What are you doing here? Weren’t you supposed to be in Southern Chu?"
