Yun Kui had indeed slipped away by exploiting a loophole.
After following Qing Dai to receive her reward and seeing that the Empress had no further instructions, and that the Crown Prince had already awakened—presumably capable of drinking his medicine himself—she seized the opportunity to return to the kitchen. The palace hall was filled with attendants anyway; surely her presence wasn’t needed.
Clutching the gold ingot in her hand, Yun Kui’s heart still raced with lingering fear.
Truly, fortune favors the bold.
Her wrist, where the Crown Prince had gripped her, remained swollen and throbbed painfully with every breath she took. How could a man who had been gravely injured and unconscious possess such terrifying strength? He’d nearly crushed her bones!
Fortunately, she’d had the foresight to blindfold him beforehand, and with Her Majesty the Empress guaranteeing her safety, today’s ordeal should be over, right? The Crown Prince was a man of immense responsibilities; surely he wouldn’t remember someone as insignificant as her.
Not long after, Dan Gui returned from Chengguang Palace, her soul seemingly having fled her body. She trembled violently as she climbed into bed.
Yun Kui quietly scooted closer and asked, "Is the Crown Prince’s appearance so terrifying that it scared you like this?"
"How would I dare look at him?" Dan Gui’s face was ashen as she whispered, "But just now, His Highness declared that if Physician Chen fails to cure him within a month, he’ll have the man’s entire family executed."
How tyrannical! Killing someone just because they couldn’t cure him?
Then again, this Crown Prince must value his life dearly if he was willing to threaten a physician’s family to ensure his recovery. In that case, hadn’t her bold act of administering his medicine today actually been a merit?
Still, Yun Kui’s already limited courage had been thoroughly exhausted. After the scare the Crown Prince had given her, she would never dare approach him again in this lifetime.
Recalling the events in the palace hall, Dan Gui shuddered with lingering dread. "How could you be so bold as to step forward and serve him medicine?"
Yun Kui hunched her shoulders. "I was terrified too."
She had never imagined the Crown Prince would wake up at that exact moment. Wasn’t he riddled with arrows and teetering on the brink of death? Hadn’t he been unconscious all this time? Why did he have to wake up precisely when she was feeding him medicine? What rotten luck!
Though she loved money and had taken the gamble with the mindset that fortune favors the bold, that didn’t mean she wasn’t afraid of death. This ten-tael-gold transaction was a one-time deal—if she tried it again, she’d surely lose her life.
Dan Gui asked curiously, "How did you come up with that method? I’ve never seen anyone use sheep intestines to feed medicine before."
Yun Kui thought for a moment. "I saw my uncle do it for my aunt."
Once, her aunt had lain in bed, sickly and refusing to take her medicine. Peeking through the window, Yun Kui had watched as her uncle filled a sheep’s intestine with medicine and forced it into her mouth. Her aunt had shaken her head in refusal, but in the end, her uncle had succeeded.
When her aunt emerged later, her complexion had visibly improved, proving the method’s effectiveness.
"I see," Dan Gui nodded. "By the way, you’ve never mentioned your uncle’s family before."
Yun Kui lay back on the bed and sighed. "I’ve been in the palace for six or seven years now. It’s been so long, they’re probably all dead."
Orphaned at a young age, she had been taken in by her uncle’s family. But her uncle was lecherous, her aunt greedy, and her cousin addicted to gambling—none of them had treated her well.
Her aunt, noticing Yun Kui’s budding beauty, had grudgingly raised her with the intention of marrying her off as a concubine to some wealthy old squire in exchange for a hefty bride price.
She had met Squire Zhu once—a man with a face as plump as a pig’s head, whose lecherous gaze and foul stench had made her want to vomit.
And she had been barely ten years old at the time!
One night, she had dreamed of Squire Zhu grinning as he reached for her hand. The nightmare had jolted her awake. Back then, she hadn’t known about her ability to enter others’ dreams—she had simply been terrified. So she had fled her uncle’s house that very night.
After wandering aimlessly, she had eventually entered the palace as a maid. So many years had passed since then.
Yun Kui took a deep breath, forcing the unhappy memories from her mind. Before drifting off to sleep, she couldn’t help but pray: May the Crown Prince forget what happened tonight. May he forget I exist! Please, don’t come after me!
As she slipped into a drowsy slumber, a blurred figure appeared before her—a tall, imposing man clad in black and gold robes, his aura terrifying.
Even more horrifying was the sight of him lifting a girl by the throat, her legs kicking wildly as she choked out desperate pleas.
Yun Kui had never dreamed of anything so brutal—far worse than falling down stairs or being chased. She felt as if an invisible hand were squeezing her own throat, her chest constricting in suffocating pain.
Then she looked closer and—oh no—the girl being strangled was herself!
She jolted awake, gasping for air.
That was close. She’d almost died.
But wait—she had no enemies! Who would want to kill her?
Yun Kui struggled to recall the man’s appearance. His face had been indistinct, but his exposed skin was unnaturally pale, the veins in his neck prominent, his Adam’s apple sharp. His black robes had been embroidered with intricate golden patterns—serpentine, perhaps?
…A serpent?
Could it be… the Crown Prince?!
The dangerous thought took root in her mind, stealing her breath.
Yun Kui had the ability to enter others’ dreams after falling asleep, but this bizarre power had never been fully tested. She only knew that if she focused on someone before bed, she might glimpse their dreams—though not everyone’s. Figures like the Emperor or Empress, far beyond her reach, were impossible to access.
Had her desperate prayers to avoid the Crown Prince’s notice instead led her straight into his nightmare?
And now… His Highness intended to kill her?
No! Please, spare me!
If the Crown Prince were a kind and just man, he wouldn’t strangle her without cause.
But the problem was—he was a ruthless demon who slaughtered people as casually as cutting melons. Innocence meant nothing to him.
What a miscalculation! Blinded by greed for those ten taels of gold, she had acted recklessly, fearing someone else might snatch the opportunity first.
Hugging her knees, Yun Kui let out a despairing sigh.
She spent the entire day in anxious dread, but by evening, no summons had come. Just as she began to relax, she spotted a bloodied young maid being carried out of Chengguang Palace.
The icy wind in the corridor pierced her bones. Yun Kui shuddered, every hair on her body standing on end, her limbs numb with cold.
The meals sent to the Crown Prince’s quarters remained untouched. The kitchen’s head eunuch returned, shoulders hunched in fear. Someone sidled up and whispered, "What did that maid do to deserve being beaten to death by His Highness?"
The eunuch didn’t dare pry. In the palace hall, he had only caught fragments—the Crown Prince demanding, "Who sent you?" When the girl refused to answer, she had been dragged outside and clubbed to death.
On his way back, he had passed the execution site. Blood had seeped into the stone crevices, and even two large vats of water hadn’t been enough to wash it away. The metallic stench had churned his stomach, nearly making him vomit up yesterday’s meal.
He made a gesture that discouraged further questions, and from then on, everyone lived with their heads hanging by their belts, as if walking on thin ice.
Yun Kui’s heart was uneasy, her mind so distracted that she could barely focus on anything. Only at night, when she clung to those ten taels of gold in her sleep, did some of her fear gradually fade.
Late at night, in Kunning Palace.
Emperor Chunming was resting there that day. As the Empress helped him change his robes, she hesitated before speaking: "The Crown Prince... doesn’t seem to be in good condition. I wonder if he’ll pull through this time."
Emperor Chunming sighed. "Tomorrow, I’ll issue a decree across the land to see if we can summon more skilled healers to the palace to treat him."
The Empress stole a glance at him. "The last folk healer we brought in couldn’t cure him. Some even fell ill from sheer terror after witnessing the Crown Prince’s cruelty."
Emperor Chunming stared at the dragon-and-phoenix embroidery on the canopy, silent for a long while before saying, "No matter what, we must do our best."
The Empress nodded. "Understood."
Emperor Chunming had ascended the throne after his elder brother’s death, and the current Crown Prince was the son of the late Emperor Jingyou.
Years ago, Emperor Jingyou had personally led a campaign to the northern border. On his return, gravely wounded, he faced a rebellion from several powerful feudal lords. It was Empress Huigong, then heavily pregnant, who devised a stratagem to sow discord among the lords, turning them against each other and stabilizing the situation. But the strain of those days triggered labor prematurely.
To ensure the Great Zhao dynasty had an heir, Empress Huigong struggled through childbirth, delivering the Crown Prince before succumbing to death on the birthing bed. Emperor Jingyou, already weakened by his wounds and devastated by grief, soon followed her in death.
The court was thrown into chaos. Feudal lords across the land grew restless, forcing the long-ailing Empress Dowager to step in and restore order.
A nation without a ruler is doomed to collapse. The court split into two factions: one advocated for the infant Crown Prince to take the throne with the Empress Dowager as regent, while the other argued that the child was too young and the Empress Dowager too frail. With external threats looming and internal rebellions brewing, they feared the pair could not hold the empire together. Instead, they proposed selecting a virtuous and capable successor from the imperial clan.
It was then that Prince Rui—now Emperor Chunming—was recommended. Known for his wisdom and integrity, he was the only prince who had remained in the capital instead of taking a fiefdom. During Emperor Jingyou’s illness, Prince Rui had dutifully attended to him, earning a reputation for brotherly devotion.
After much debate, the Empress Dowager made the final decision: Prince Rui would rule as regent, while the Crown Prince retained his title. Upon Prince Rui’s death, the throne would return to Emperor Jingyou’s bloodline.
Over twenty years had passed since then.
Under the rule of Prince Rui—now Emperor Chunming—the Great Zhao dynasty had enjoyed relative peace, neither flourishing nor declining. But the Crown Prince, weakened since birth by chronic headaches, had grown into a man of violent temper and ruthless actions, earning widespread fear and disdain.
As his uncle, Emperor Chunming could neither discipline the Crown Prince like his own sons nor ignore his atrocities without angering the court and the people. He had no choice but to turn a blind eye.
Now, with the Crown Prince’s return to the palace, voices in the court had begun calling for his removal and the appointment of a new heir. Emperor Chunming, who had sworn to the late Empress Dowager that he would return the throne, and who had played the loving uncle for so long, could only placate the ministers with reason and sentiment.
Meanwhile, the faction loyal to the Crown Prince argued that he, now in his twenties after years of military campaigns, should marry and produce an heir to secure the dynasty’s future—lest they repeat Emperor Jingyou’s mistake of leaving too few descendants, which had led to the rebellion and Prince Rui’s rise.
At this thought, Emperor Chunming’s brow furrowed deeply. After a long silence, he sighed. "We should begin preparations for the Crown Prince’s marriage."
The couple exchanged a glance, their eyes reflecting the same unspoken complexity.
Over the years, Emperor Chunming had expanded his harem to ensure a robust lineage, fathering nine sons and twelve daughters. The Empress, too, had been fruitful, bearing two legitimate princes.
With her own sons so accomplished, how could the Empress willingly pave the way for another’s heir?
Yet Emperor Chunming had sworn an oath before the late Empress Dowager, and the entire court was watching. To avoid being branded usurpers, the imperial couple had no choice but to play the roles of doting guardians, treating the Crown Prince as their own.
No matter how tyrannical the Crown Prince was, he was Emperor Jingyou’s blood—a lineage more legitimate and noble than Emperor Chunming’s temporary reign.
After a moment of silence, the Empress spoke gently: "I understand. I’ll soon begin selecting suitable candidates for the Crown Prince. But... Your Majesty knows his temperament. Ordinary noblewomen would surely..."
Emperor Chunming understood. The Crown Prince’s cruelty had driven every highborn lady in the capital to keep their distance. Yet if he married the daughter of a powerful minister, it might strengthen his position—a risk the Emperor could not take.
Torn between these concerns, the Empress proposed a solution: "For now, let the Imperial Household and the Music Bureau select a few comely attendants to serve him in bed and tend to his needs. Once his injuries heal, we can hold a grand selection to choose his consorts."
Their eyes met, each understanding the other’s thoughts.
Assigning bedchamber attendants would allow them to plant their own people, ensuring no offspring were conceived.
It would also silence public criticism, proving the Emperor and Empress were diligently arranging the Crown Prince’s marriage with no hidden ambitions.
And it would create opportunities to expose the Crown Prince’s brutality, dissuading noble families from coveting the position of Crown Princess.
Meanwhile, Yun Kui, after days of anxious waiting with no summons from the Crown Prince, finally began to relax.
On reflection, why would such an insignificant figure as her be remembered by someone so lofty?
But her relief was short-lived. An attendant from the Empress’s palace arrived—a familiar matron Yun Kui recognized from Lanyue Pavilion.
"Her Majesty requests Yun Kui’s presence."
Yun Kui froze, a sense of foreboding creeping over her. "Might I ask why Her Majesty summons me?"
The matron smiled. "Your beauty is like a hidden pearl. Her Majesty wishes to polish it—a joyous occasion indeed."
