Wedding cakes?
Song Yanzheng knew nothing of the past events, only insisting stubbornly:
"I ate the wedding cake! It was given to me by Uncle before the banquet began—it was Uncle who tried to harm me!"
The Crown Prince’s teeth chattered as he stared in disbelief at Song Yu’s unflinching expression.
How could a good-for-nothing wastrel like him have uncovered the truth of what happened back then? And now, he was using the same method to take revenge on Yanzheng?
He refused to believe it.
Even now, the Crown Prince clung to the delusion that this was merely a coincidence, unwilling to admit that Song Yu was no longer the unthreatening elder brother he once was.
"Song Yu, how dare you poison and scheme against Yanzheng!" The Successor Empress had lost all reason.
For years, she had been haunted by memories of that day, the scene replaying in her nightmares.
Now, all her composure shattered completely.
"Yanzheng is your nephew! Song Yu, have you no conscience?"
Her shrieks were unrecognizable—far from the dignified and graceful image she usually maintained, she now resembled a mad old crone.
"Does the Empress possess divine foresight?" Song Yu’s lips curled in mockery as he stepped toward her.
Each step carried the weight of an unspoken accusation.
"Pray tell, Empress, why did you mention the wedding cakes so suddenly?"
"Why were you so certain I would give Yanzheng one?"
"And how did you know—beyond doubt—that I poisoned it?"
The three questions struck like hammer blows, and the Successor Empress collapsed to the ground. The Crown Prince quickly caught her, glaring up at Song Yu.
"Elder Brother, how dare you question your superior?"
"That day in the grand hall, you accused me of the same crime when you tried to send me to Huangjue Temple."
Song Shihuan tugged at Emperor Yuanyou’s sleeve, her eyes wide with confusion.
"But I did nothing wrong that day, and Father has done nothing wrong today. Grandfather, is questioning one’s superior always a crime?"
Emperor Yuanyou kicked Song Yanzheng away, the force making his bones ache.
Then, shielding Song Shihuan with his sleeve, the Emperor’s gaze slid coldly toward the Successor Empress.
Before he could speak, Song Yu’s next words sent the situation spiraling further.
"Or is it because, on the day I was falsely accused, Song Ling also gave me a wedding cake?"
A thunderclap boomed overhead, and heavy raindrops began pelting the ground.
The summer storm arrived with sudden fury, yet no one dared move.
Everyone knew—
Today’s events would escalate beyond control.
......
"Empress, We are also curious."
Emperor Yuanyou’s smile was icy as he regarded her.
"Every question the Prince of Qin just asked is one We wish answered."
"Father..." The Crown Prince tried to speak in her defense, but the Emperor’s piercing stare stole his breath.
"We ask you—was there ever anything wrong with the wedding cake you gave your elder brother all those years ago?"
The Crown Prince shook his head desperately. If this were confirmed, he had no doubt his father would strip him of his title.
"But Uncle’s wedding cake was definitely poisoned!" Song Yanzheng, seeing no one would defend him, grabbed the Crown Princess’s arm.
"Mother, you know me best—how could I ever tarnish Miss Gu’s virtue?"
"Of course, Mother knows. You would never do such a thing. It’s Mother’s fault for not knowing how to help you." The Crown Princess gazed at her son, now reduced to a pitiful wreck, her eyes dark with unreadable emotion.
Yanzheng, Mother knows everything.
Today’s disaster is Mother’s gift to you.
"Not just Mother, but your Grandmother too. We all believe in you."
At her prompting, Song Yanzheng turned to the Successor Empress. The rain had ruined her makeup, revealing deep wrinkles—she looked a decade older.
"Grandmother, you only mentioned the wedding cake because you knew it was poisoned, right?"
Caught between the Crown Prince and Yanzheng’s expectant stares, the Successor Empress wished she could faint on the spot.
"Grandmother." Song Shihuan tilted her head, her brow furrowed. "Is Second Uncle right, or is Eldest Brother right?"
One claimed the old wedding cake was harmless.
The other insisted today’s was poisoned.
It was as if... they were forcing her to choose.
Realizing the gravity of the situation, the Crown Prince subtly tightened his grip on the Successor Empress’s wrist. Instantly, her face turned ashen, all vitality draining away.
The rain was freezing, yet the Successor Empress suddenly laughed, a hollow, broken sound.
Now she understood—today’s birthday banquet wasn’t just a trap for Yanzheng.
Song Yu had set his sights on her, the Empress, and the entire Eastern Palace.
He meant to destroy them all.
"Song Yu, you truly have changed."
As the Successor Empress’s true nature was laid bare, Emperor Yuanyou’s eyes darkened like a storm. Another thunderclap shook the heavens, as if condemning her wickedness.
"But you miscalculated."
Song Yu met her gaze unflinchingly. Beside him, Song Shihuan’s face—both so eerily similar to the late Empress’s—made the Successor Empress tremble under the lightning’s glare.
"This Consort knows you’ve uncovered the truth." Her lips twisted into a ghastly smile. "The wedding cake from back then was poisoned—by my own hand. Song Ling knew nothing."
"And now, to take revenge, you used the same method against Yanzheng. Song Yu, you’re no saint either. Scheming against your own nephew—stripping you of your golden sash would be justified."
She was willing to sacrifice herself to protect both Song Ling and Yanzheng.
And drag Song Yu down with her.
But Song Yu only smiled.
"Empress Mother, the wedding cake I gave Yanzheng hasn’t been examined yet. To accuse me of poisoning him is premature."
"Song Yu!"
Realizing his implication, the Successor Empress lunged at him like a madwoman. "Impossible! That cake must be poisoned! It had illusion grass, and that wretched maid—the sachet at her waist was the trigger!"
"Mei Zhilin! Have it inspected!"
Under the Emperor’s silent command, Mei Zhilin tremblingly examined the sachet at Mei Xiang’s waist before speaking.
"Your Majesty, the wedding cake has already been consumed by the Grand Sun, leaving no evidence. As for this maid’s sachet... it contains only common calming herbs."
The Successor Empress spat out a mouthful of blood, the metallic tang mixing with the storm’s fury, suffocating the air.
Now, trapped with no escape, her predicament mirrored Song Yu’s from years ago.
Back then, she had been smug, proud of her flawless scheme.
Today...
Gritting her teeth, she turned to Mei Xiang.
"Who gave you that sachet?"
