Chapter 4

Chapter 4

“You’re not worthy…”

Those three words struck her heart like a poisoned arrow.

Sheng Zhaoning felt as if all her strength had been drained; she clutched her chest, curled up on the ground, gasping for breath.

Yes, how could she be worthy!

During the Palace Coup, it was she who had thrust a sword into his heart, ending his life!

Ironically, she had killed so many under the pretext of revenge, yet the one who most deserved to die was herself!

“Hahaha…” Sheng Zhaoning laughed through her tears, her shoulders trembling as if she’d used her last ounce of strength. “Kill me.”

“Kill you?” Wei Yi seemed to have heard something utterly absurd. “What makes you think I would let you die so easily?”

He shook her off coldly.

Back then, he had set aside his pride to go to her, even humbly begging her, but all he received in return was her cold stare and the indifferent words, “Your Highness the Heir, conduct yourself with propriety.”

That very night, he drank alone atop Mingyue Pavilion, the wind blowing as he grew drunk. In his daze, he caught sight of Sheng Zhaoning and the Crown Prince walking side by side, loving and tender, enjoying the festival together.

Wei Yi would never forget the overwhelming humiliation and fury of that moment.

He had even wanted to disregard everything, draw his sword, and kill that man right there on the street. But a shred of reason told him the time was not yet right; if he acted then, all his prior schemes would come to naught.

So he could only forcefully suppress his towering rage. A proud son of heaven, for the first time in his life he endured humiliation, crouching in that lonely moon and cold wind night, piece by piece gathering his shattered self-respect, crazed with jealousy.

Recalling the past, Wei Yi’s eyes suddenly darkened, the fury in his brow deepening. “Do not forget, the lives of the entire Sheng clan are in my hands. You are not afraid of death, but if you bring them to ruin, Lord Sheng would find it too heartless, wouldn’t you?”

Sheng Zhaoning’s pupils sharply contracted. “What do you intend to do?”

Wei Yi stared at her for a long moment, as if trying to see through her, then leisurely said: “You need only remember, without my permission, you don’t even have the right to die.”

He flicked his sleeves and rose, looking down at her from on high. “I want you to watch with your own eyes as imperial power is overturned and the realm is unified, so you can see how foolish your original choice was!”

Wei Yi kicked open the door and said to the person standing outside: “Transmit my decree: Sheng Zhaoning has defied and offended her superior, acting with madness and arrogance. She is to be sent to the Ministry of Justice’s dungeon and held awaiting punishment!”

……

Sheng Zhaoning was taken away.

The dungeon was dark, damp, and bone-chillingly cold, never seeing sunlight all year round, mostly holding serious criminals and those on death row.

She was locked in the coldest, darkest cell of the dungeon.

The Ministry of Justice and the Court of Judicial Review had a long-standing feud; seeing her in such a wretched and disheveled state, they naturally wanted to torment her severely to avenge personal grudges.

But Wei Yi wanted her kept alive and forbade torture. Her paper-thin body would shatter at a touch, so the Ministry of Justice was constrained and dared not lay a hand on her.

However, there were more ways to torment a person than just physical pain.

During the day, when the weather was slightly warm, the jailers would fill the room with burning charcoal, the raging flames continuously blazing, making it suffocatingly hot.

At night, when the cold was at its peak, the braziers were all removed, replaced by a wide-open skylight overhead and a room full of ice blocks emitting cold air.

With such methods, no scars would appear on her body. Even if she died, it would be because her health was too poor and she couldn’t hold on, with none to blame.

Thus, Sheng Zhaoning suffered repeated high fevers in the alternation of cold and heat, nearly dying several times, only to be revived by the Imperial Physician with strong medicines.

The Imperial Physician, faced with such a tricky assignment, could only suffer in silence. He had to use all his medical skills to keep her alive, yet dared not offend the Ministry of Justice by reporting to the emperor, nor could he stop the Ministry of Justice from deliberately tormenting her. He could only keep her breathing with medicine, watching as her foundation was damaged again and again. If this continued, who knew how much longer she could live.

“Hurry up and get up! Do you really think you’re here to recover from an illness?”

The jailer banged his sword against the iron bars, creating a racket, and casually tossed two cold, hard, moldy steamed buns at her feet.

Sheng Zhaoning curled up in the corner.

It was just noon, and the cell was once again filled with burning charcoal. The flames were scorching, with only a small window open overhead, making the entire room stiflingly hot to the point of suffocation.

She had no strength in her body; upon hearing this, she couldn’t even be bothered to lift her eyelids.

The jailer, seeing her sickly appearance, felt he was making a fool of himself. He muttered a couple of curses, glared at her, and turned away.

Sheng Zhaoning closed her eyes wearily once more.

She was rarely lucid; most of the time she was burning with fever, sleeping in a daze, unconscious.

After falling into another deep sleep, she didn’t know how long it was before she faintly heard footsteps.

Lying on the ground, in her stupor, Sheng Zhaoning sensed someone lifting her up, and then a thick, bitter herbal soup was poured down her throat.

The bitterness stung her nerve endings and spread through her mouth; she retched a few times, wanting to vomit, but someone helped her up and patted her back gently.

The nausea that had been churning in her stomach then subsided.

The scorching heat had somehow slowly dissipated, and the stuffy air that made it hard to breathe seemed to clear gradually.

It turned out the charcoal braziers had been removed.

Sheng Zhaoning’s cheeks were frighteningly flushed, and her eye sockets were parched; she forced her heavy eyelids open and looked up with blurred vision.

She made out the person with difficulty.

Leaning against the wall, she forced a smile and said in a hoarse voice, “You’re here.”

The person didn’t speak.

He crouched in front of her, stared at her with a deep frown for a long moment, and after a while, let out a heavy sigh and held the medicine bowl out to her.

“Drink it.”

Sheng Zhaoning looked at the bowl of black herbal medicine, shook her head slightly, and said weakly, “I can’t hold it.”

The person was silent for a moment, then brought the medicine to her lips.

Sheng Zhaoning bit the rim of the bowl, tilted her head up slightly, and drank the medicine down.

“Thank you, General Chi.”

She smiled as she thanked him.

Chi Yu set the bowl aside with a cold expression.

He ground out the words through clenched teeth, “Sheng Zhaoning, look at the state you’re in!”

He seemed rather angry.

It was hard to tell what he was angry about.

The smile on Sheng Zhaoning’s lips faded.

Those words had been said to her by more than just him.

Sometimes they were said with loathing, sometimes with pity, sometimes with mockery.

Chi Yu’s tone, however, was very complex, at least so much so that she couldn’t decipher it at the moment.

Sheng Zhaoning rested her head against the wall, as if utterly exhausted, her shoulders slumping.

She looked at him quietly for a while, then suddenly said:

“Do me a favor.”

Chi Yu’s expression stiffened. He asked, almost in disbelief, “You still won’t give up?”

Sheng Zhaoning reached out and grabbed his sleeve, her cheeks flushed, her warm breath softly falling on the back of his hand. “I’m not going to kill anyone. I just want to go see someone.”

She tilted her head up slightly to look at him, her eyes glistening, the corners red, her deliberately softened voice carrying a hint of pleading.

“Please.”

Chi Yu froze almost instantly.

He yanked his sleeve back, stepped back two paces, and looked at her as if she were some kind of monster.

Meeting his searching gaze, Sheng Zhaoning leaned weakly against the wall and explained, “I don’t have much time left. Before I die, I just want to see my mentor. That’s all.”

……

Chi Yu left.

He didn’t agree, said nothing, only gave her a deep look before leaving.

Sheng Zhaoning knew he didn’t believe her.

She wasn’t surprised by such an outcome. After all, she had already used him to kill many people.

Sheng Zhaoning stopped taking her medicine.

Even though the Ministry of Justice was restrained by Chi Yu and no longer dared to torture her, she still rapidly wasted away, her breathing becoming faint.

Unable to get medicine into her, the Imperial Physician had to administer acupuncture.

For days on end, Sheng Zhaoning remained unconscious. The Imperial Physician checked her pulse, sighed, and shook his head.

Chi Yu finally gave in.

He strode into the cell, bringing a chill with him, stood before Sheng Zhaoning, leaned down close to her ear, and said through gritted teeth, “I agree. You better get better, now!”

Bowl after bowl of life-sustaining medicine was forced down her throat, and on the fifth day, Sheng Zhaoning finally regained consciousness.