“Imperial Father! Imperial Father, spare her under your sword!” The Little Crown Prince came running all the way, panting for breath as he burst into Zilan Hall. All he saw was Yun Jichu collapsed at the Emperor’s feet.
And his Imperial Father stood there, gripping a sword.
The Crown Prince let out a grief-stricken cry and flung himself forward. “Selection Consort Yun!”
He dropped to his knees beside Yun Jichu and clutched Helian Jin’s leg. “Imperial Father! Selection Consort Yun is utterly innocent!”
Helian Jin’s eyes burned red, his hand trembling on the hilt of the Treasure Sword. It was as if he couldn’t even see the Crown Prince. He crouched down instead and picked something up from the floor.
An identical Jade Pendant.
So many years had passed. He had executed the traitor who forged the fake Jade Pendant while pregnant with a ghost fetus. He had sent agents to scour countless places—even overseas—and found nothing. And now, at last, he beheld one just like it again.
Tears streamed down the Crown Prince’s cheeks. Half a month earlier, he had overheard Yun Jichu speaking with Li Wenzhu in Chengxiang Hall about an encounter from five years ago. Suspicion had stirred in him then.
Yet his investigations over the past half month had turned up nothing. Yun Jichu had lived quietly in Minzhou the whole time, never once setting foot in Yujing—let alone marrying and bearing two children.
The sense of familiar closeness he felt from her couldn’t be feigned. But she didn’t recognize Ah Huan or him at all.
What in the world was happening here?
No mere tale of ghosts or gods could explain it.
The Crown Prince hadn’t dared to jump to conclusions. He feared his Imperial Father might fly into a rage and kill her the moment he laid eyes on her face. So he had instructed Lady Shuxiu to watch over her during this period and ensure she failed the selection.
But somehow, Selection Consort Yun had still met the Imperial Father—and died by his sword!
“Imperial Father! You may have just slain my Mother with your own hand!” The Crown Prince roared, his voice raw and breaking.
The towering Emperor before him was the man he had revered his entire life. But in this moment, he cast aside all propriety between ruler and subject, father and son.
Helian Jin flung the sword aside. He fixed the Crown Prince with a stare and asked, word by deliberate word, “Your Mother?”
The Crown Prince wiped the tears from his eyes with his sleeve. “Both Ah Huan and I have seen her.”
Helian Jin bent down and scooped Yun Jichu into his arms. Her face was deathly pale, but her breathing came steady and even—like a slender willow branch dangling from his arm.
The Crown Prince looked up. Yun Jichu’s robes were pristine, without a single spot of blood. Her head lolled back limply, baring the clean white column of her throat. No trace of injury anywhere.
She wasn’t dead!
She had only fainted.
“Summon the Imperial Physicians.”
With those curt words, Helian Jin strode away, cradling Yun Jichu.
When Yun Jichu awoke, night had fallen. She lay amid soft, sweetly scented bedding. Above her, she could just make out the embroidered hibiscus petals on the bed canopy.
Was she dead?
Then where was this place?
Yun Jichu bolted upright. Had she reloaded a save file?
She hadn’t even saved—how could she reload?
Suddenly, a single lamp wick flared to life. Then, one by one, nine more lamps ignited around the room. In their glow, Yun Jichu saw her visitor clearly.
Lady Shuxiu stood there in neat cyan robes, a flower pinned to one side of her gauze hat.
Lady Shuxiu brought over a bowl of medicinal soup and offered it to her. “Drink this. It’ll calm your nerves.”
Yun Jichu had endured quite the fright that day. She took the bowl and drank it down without hesitation.
The medicine was bitterly unpleasant.
Her stomach clenched in revolt. She fought down the urge to retch until the last drop was gone.
Lady Shuxiu proved unusually attentive today. She offered a salted plum.
Yun Jichu popped it into her mouth and felt immediate relief.
Yet Lady Shuxiu said little. Once her tasks were done, she simply stood by in attendance.
“She’s awake.”
A deep voice rumbled from the shadows. The faint rustle of robes against polished golden bricks followed, along with footsteps drawing steadily nearer.
It was Helian Jin!
Before Yun Jichu could react, a spasm twisted through her gut. She lunged for the edge of the bed and vomited.
Out came the plum—along with every last bit of that foul-tasting medicine.
Helian Jin halted several paces away. In the dim light, his expression was unreadable.
Yun Jichu silently berated herself. What a useless fool she was—barely escaping death, only to humiliate herself like this!
She wiped her mouth haphazardly, threw back the covers, and scrambled out of bed to kneel. “Spare my life, Your Majesty,” she pleaded over and over.
Dead silence blanketed the hall.
Only after a long moment did the Emperor’s voice emerge from the shadows. “Rest well.” To her shock, it trembled faintly.
He did not take another step closer.
With that, Helian Jin turned and departed. Only then did Yun Jichu feel tension ebb from her body.
She had no idea how she had clawed her way back from the brink. Could that single point of Favorability from the Jade Pendant truly have made the difference?
“Lady Shuxiu, I—”
Lady Shuxiu inclined her head in a deferential bow, her demeanor as composed and unflinching as ever. “Consort, you need only call this servant Shuxiu.”
“Consort?”
“His Majesty hasn’t issued any decree yet. He’s merely allowed you to stay temporarily in the Side Hall of Zichen Hall, without assigning a title or position. So for now, this servant will address you as Consort.”
“……”
She hadn’t even spent those three hundred taels, and now she was a Consort?
Yun Jichu suspected she had stumbled into easy mode.
Lady Shuxiu had never been one for gentle words or deferential glances. Seeing her like this now left Yun Jichu deeply uncomfortable. “No, I’ll still call you Lady Shuxiu.”
Lady Shuxiu bowed her head once more and set about cleaning the mess on the floor beneath the bed. She offered no argument.
After tidying up and burning some incense, Yun Jichu rested for a while before downing another bowl of medicinal soup.
She had barely finished when a familiar voice rang out. “Selection Consort Yun, how are you feeling?”
Yun Jichu swallowed the last mouthful, caught her breath, and prayed she wouldn’t throw it up again.
By then, the Little Crown Prince had already reached the bedside.
His gaze lingered on Yun Jichu’s face for an instant before he stepped over to the small table beside the bed. He glanced at the empty medicine bowl and said in a precociously mature tone, “You fainted from excessive fright. You must drink this medicine for three straight days to get better.”
Yun Jichu scooted inward, clearing a spot at the head of the bed. She patted the mattress. “Come on, sit here and talk.”
The Crown Prince took a step back, flustered. “You! This Prince will sit on the grandmaster chair just fine.”
With that, he walked to the grandmaster chair nearby, planted both hands on the seat, and hopped up—his feet dangling in midair.
Yun Jichu watched his legs swinging back and forth, fighting back a laugh. “I thought you kept glancing over here because you wanted to sit here.”
The Crown Prince sipped his tea calmly and steadily, seemingly accustomed to Yun Jichu’s blunt, no-holds-barred way of speaking—calling out what she saw without mincing words.
“Not at all.”
Yun Jichu said, “Thank you for saving me today.”
Just before she fainted, she had seen the Crown Prince charging into Zilan Hall.
But the Crown Prince replied, “Imperial Father had no intention of killing you, so This Prince didn’t really save you today.”
Yun Jichu knew that in the Little Crown Prince’s eyes, Helian Jin was a towering figure of impeccable purity.
So even with today’s scene—sword drawn, eyes bloodshot—the Little Crown Prince couldn’t imagine Helian Jin intending to kill anyone.
She smiled. “All the same, thank you.”
The Little Crown Prince’s gaze fixed on her smiling face. After a moment, he looked away, his voice losing its earlier liveliness. “Selection Consort Yun, do you wish to stay in the palace?”
He had considered countless reasons why Mother might not recognize him and Ah Huan.
Perhaps after five years, she had long forgotten she even had children. Or maybe she remembered but didn’t want to acknowledge them. Or perhaps she had built a new life of her own.
Yun Jichu blurted out, “I have no other choice.”
This wasn’t the Helian Jin from five years ago. This was a new, tyrannical Helian Jin—and she was terrified.
But she had already transmigrated into this game. Pressing forward was her only option.
In the shadows, unseen by anyone, the Little Crown Prince’s eyes darkened. His lashes trembled faintly as he gulped down the cold tea in his cup, choking slightly. His eyes grew moist. “Very well. This Prince understands.”
“Mother! Mother, are you feeling better?” A soft, sweet voice of concern rang out before her figure even appeared.
Thump thump thump—the Little Princess ran in. With a few quick scrambles, she climbed onto the bed and plopped down beside Yun Jichu, right in the spot Yun Jichu had cleared earlier for the Crown Prince.
The Princess’s hands were small and soft as she gripped Yun Jichu’s arm. Her pretty little face tilted upward, her gaze earnest.
“Mother…”
The Crown Prince said, “Ah Huan, mind your manners. This is Lady Yun.”
The Princess wouldn’t back down.
She hugged Yun Jichu’s arm with both hands and shook it vigorously from side to side. “No! I won’t call her Lady Yun. She is my Mother!”
A pang of tenderness softened Yun Jichu’s heart. Who could resist such an adorable little girl? Helian Jin’s original wife had passed away young, so she must surely hold these two children dear in her heart.
“Your Highness, this common woman hails from Minzhou. I am but a newly selected beauty and dare not presume upon the Late Empress’s name.”
“You…” The Little Princess’s eyes reddened. “Mother, don’t you recognize Ah Huan anymore?”
Yun Jichu’s heart ached with sourness, but she said firmly, “Your Highness, this common woman is not your mother.”
Their mother was Helian Jin’s white moonlight. The Crown Prince surely knew that full well. Even if Yun Jichu bore a striking resemblance to the Late Empress, he wouldn’t mistake her for her. The Princess missed her mother so desperately that even this impostor moved her to tears.
Yun Jichu sighed softly and pulled out a handkerchief to wipe the Princess’s tears. Better to teach her early how to see things clearly.
Helian Jin stood at the doorway for a long time.
Cui Cheng, concerned for His Majesty’s health, fetched an outer robe, only for His Majesty to wave it away.
“Your Majesty, the Consort is reuniting with the Crown Prince and Princess. Won’t you go in and take a look?”
“Reuniting?” Helian Jin turned to Cui Cheng, his gaze probing. “Why do you think she is Zhen’s Empress?”
Cui Cheng answered nervously, “In Zilan Hall, the Consort stuffed three hundred taels in silver notes into this slave’s hands.”
The Late Empress had given him silver before—a fact His Majesty knew well. He had even confiscated the 671 taels Cui Cheng hadn’t spent, storing it all with the Late Empress’s relics in Zichen Hall.
Helian Jin said nothing. He listened as the crying inside gradually subsided, but he did not budge.
If she truly was Ah Chu, why did she fear him so? And why refuse to acknowledge these two children?
If she wasn’t Ah Chu, then why did she have an identical jade pendant? And why did her every gesture and word mirror Ah Chu’s so perfectly?
“Where is the item Zhen told you to search for?”
Xue Gui stepped out from behind Cui Cheng, cradling a box in his hands. He presented it to the emperor and opened the lid.
Inside lay twenty-nine jade pendants, utterly devoid of luster.
Helian Jin strode into the hall, only to halt abruptly behind the screen. Peering through it, he saw the woman on the couch cradling the princess in her arms. Her slender hand gently stroked the princess’s back as she hummed a soft lullaby in a low, tender voice.
It was unmistakably Ah Chu!
No one in the world could match her so perfectly in appearance, demeanor, and voice.
Even if such a person existed, he would never mistake her.
Yet why had Ah Chu not recognized him?
It seemed Ah Chu no longer remembered him at all.
In the end, Helian Jin chose not to shatter that serene and beautiful moment. He watched for a while longer before quietly withdrawing.
“Summon Wei Shan,” Helian Jin commanded, slouching irritably against the table.
Moments later, a man with an otherworldly air, his hand stroking his long beard, knelt in the center of the hall. With calm composure, he said, “This Poor Daoist pays respects to His Majesty.”
Helian Jin waved a hand, and all the palace maids and eunuchs in the hall promptly withdrew.
“That method you spoke of earlier—it worked.”
Wei Shan remained utterly composed, as if he had anticipated this. “Congratulations, Your Majesty,” he replied evenly.
Helian Jin rose to his feet, his imperial aura unfurling like a storm. Fixing Wei Shan with a piercing stare, he demanded, “Her soul has returned, yet her memories are completely gone. What crime do you answer for this?”
Wei Shan stood firm as a mountain, his bearing transcendent and utterly unlike that of a mortal. “When a wandering soul enters a body, turbulence and damage are inevitable. If Your Majesty wishes to restore her fully to her former self, the previous method requires one additional catalyst.”
Cui Cheng waited outside the hall when a furious roar erupted from within, followed by the crash and shatter of objects scattering across the floor.
He rushed inside in a panic and found Wei Shan kneeling with blood trickling from his forehead, his eyes cast down as if he felt no pain at all.
The emperor’s laugh was chilling and terrifying. “Get out.”