When Luo Jingfeng rushed back, his armor still clung to him, drenched in the chill of battle. Yet as he entered the palace, his hands met a body colder than his own—his third sister, Luo Shu, lifeless and still.
"Third… Third Sister… Third Sister…" Luo Jingfeng trembled violently, his voice breaking as he stared at Luo Shu’s bloodless face.
Luo Jingfeng lost his mind.
He no longer understood the purpose of his relentless warfare. All he had ever wanted was to rise higher, to shield his third sister for a lifetime, to ensure she lived safe and sound.
So why?
Why couldn’t even this simple wish be granted?
He seized his elder brother Luo Jingyun by the collar, roaring in fury, "I told you to go to the capital and protect her! Where was your protection? Where is my sister now? Why did she die?"
Luo Jingyun, equally devastated, shook his head. "I don’t know… I don’t know… There was no sign of trouble in the palace. The imperial physicians said she only had a minor illness, that rest would heal her. I never imagined she would… take her own life…"
Luo Jingfeng let out a guttural cry. "Suicide? I refuse to believe it! She was living well—why would she do such a thing? Someone must have harmed her! Someone forced her! And I will find every last one of them, one by one… I’ll slaughter them! Their families! Their entire clans!"
Luo Shu was buried in the imperial mausoleum.
Luo Jingfeng, consumed by grief, kept vigil outside her tomb for three days, refusing food or water, unmovable until the Prince of Southern Pacification could bear it no longer and knocked him unconscious to bring him home.
Lu Zhu saw him again after two years, her heart aching unbearably. She tended to him personally, bathing him and feeding him nourishing broth.
"Third Sister!!" Luo Jingfeng jolted awake from a nightmare.
But only Lu Zhu and Luo Ji stood before him.
"Where is my sister? Where is she?" Luo Jingfeng demanded, wild-eyed.
Lu Zhu’s voice was tender with sorrow. "She has gone to the heavens, my lord. But you still have me… you still have us. I’ve even given you another—"
"Get out!" Luo Jingfeng shoved her away violently, his eyes bloodshot. "What are you, compared to her? Get out of my sight!"
Lu Zhu knew his pain spoke for him.
Tears welling, she embraced him again. "I won’t leave. I know you’re suffering, and so am I. But life must go on. Third Sister wouldn’t want to see you like this."
Beside them, little Luo Ji watched in confusion.
At four years old, he was bright and perceptive, raised to believe his father was a great hero who defended the nation. His mother had always told him: "Your father loves me, and he loves you."
So Luo Ji had waited eagerly for his father’s return.
Yet his first memory of their reunion was his father’s maddened curses at his mother.
"Move!" Luo Jingfeng shoved Lu Zhu aside again, scrambling to dress. He would hunt down the killer—he would tear them limb from limb!
Lu Zhu chased after him, clinging to his back, refusing to let him go. "The courts have investigated countless times. Third Sister took her own life. Why won’t you accept it? My lord, you must eat. You’ll collapse at this rate—"
Her persistence finally forced Luo Jingfeng to still.
He turned, staring at her tear-streaked face, his mind flooding with memories of how she had abandoned him the moment she gained her noble title.
Her. And Wen Lingyu.
These scheming capital nobles—they were the ones who had dragged Luo Shu into the palace’s depths, where she had met her end.
With a snarl, Luo Jingfeng seized Lu Zhu by the throat.
Her veins bulged as he lifted her off the ground.
"Mother! Mother! Let her go!" Luo Ji screamed, pounding his tiny fists against his father’s legs, powerless to stop him.
Lu Zhu’s face darkened, her struggles weakening as her arms flailed.
Luo Jingfeng roared, his voice raw with rage, "You have everything! What more do you want from me? What else are you plotting?"
He hurled her to the ground.
Lu Zhu crumpled, coughing violently, tears streaming.
"Mother… Mother, are you alright?" Luo Ji crawled to her, sobbing in terror.
Between coughs, Lu Zhu gasped, "I’m fine, Ji’er. Go outside."
Luo Ji shook his head frantically. "No! I won’t leave you! Come with me, Mother! Father is a monster—he wants to kill you! I hate him! Let’s leave him, Mother. We don’t need him!"
"Don’t say such things!" Lu Zhu clamped a hand over his mouth, handing him to a maid before shutting the door behind them.
"Mother, don’t go back! He’ll kill you! Mother…!" Luo Ji’s cries faded into the distance.
Lu Zhu turned, stepping back inside.
Luo Jingfeng lifted his gaze, hatred burning in his eyes. "Aren’t you afraid of death?"
She threw herself into his arms again. "Yes. But I fear your suffering more."
Silence fell.
Just as she thought he had calmed, his icy voice cut through the air: "Call me ‘my lord’ again, and I’ll kill you."
The words were calm, yet carried a deadly certainty.
Lu Zhu nodded quickly. "I won’t."
Luo Jingfeng sat on the cold floor, Lu Zhu beside him—close, but not touching. He wouldn’t allow it.
Her husband was grieving, but he still loved her.
Luo Ji couldn’t understand, but Lu Zhu knew.
Luo Jingfeng began his ruthless purge. Every concubine who had ever slighted Luo Shu was interrogated, openly or in secret. Their families faced ruin under his relentless wrath.
The Luo family, already powerful from military glory, now wielded unchecked dominance. Luo Jingfeng’s madness and arrogance stirred outrage across the court.
Then, during a royal hunt, Luo Jingfeng laid eyes on the newly appointed Crown Prince, Chu Heng.
The fifteen-year-old prodigy, beloved by the people for his wisdom and martial prowess—yet his hands faltered, his grip on his sword unsteady.
Luo Jingfeng’s instincts screamed.
A warrior’s failing grip meant only two things: severed tendons, or a trauma too deep to bear.
And Crown Prince Chu Heng’s skills remained intact.
Yet he could no longer wield a sword.
Luo Jingfeng’s focus sharpened instantly. "Investigate him," he ordered darkly. "I will know if he had any part in my sister’s death."
