All eyes now subtly fell upon Zhou Shengsheng, who was quietly grinding ink with her head bowed.
Zhou Shengsheng didn’t understand—how had she suddenly become part of the drama?
“Lord Liu, are you talking about me?” she interjected at an inopportune moment.
Lord Liu lowered his head, silently confirming her suspicion.
Ming Siran let out a cold laugh. “She’s just a lowly servant. How could someone of her status possibly affect the fate of the Great Yong Empire? Nonsense!”
Lord Liu immediately knelt down. “Your Majesty! In all my years of service, have I ever been wrong? Please believe me, this woman is a harbinger of disaster!”
“Enough!” A teapot shattered beside Lord Liu, and Ming Siran’s chest heaved with suppressed anger.
Zhou Shengsheng glanced at him, surprised.
Perhaps he was protecting her life because of his agreement with Duan Fusheng.
She deliberately avoided thinking about any other, more romantic reasons.
“Your Majesty...” Lord Liu tried to speak again, but a single glare from Ming Siran silenced him.
“Escort Lord Liu out. We’ll discuss this matter later,” Ming Siran said wearily.
Zhou Shengsheng took the initiative to see Lord Liu out of the palace.
Before leaving, Lord Liu gave her a long, complicated look. “Miss, if you are willing to sacrifice yourself, I promise to send people to burn abundant paper money for you every year.”
“You’re just a palace maid now. With plenty of paper money in the afterlife, wouldn’t that be better than your current life?”
Even Zhou Shengsheng had never heard such a bizarre attempt to convince someone to die.
Lord Liu, Lord Liu, truly a master of empty promises...
“You flatter me, my lord. As His Majesty said, I’m just a lowly servant. How could I possibly affect the fate of the Yong Kingdom?”
Seeing her response, he shook his head, muttering something mournful under his breath as he walked away.
Despite Ming Siran’s firm refusal, the situation at the border worsened. After hearing the Imperial Astrology Bureau’s prediction and learning that the so-called harbinger of disaster was merely a lowly palace maid, the ministers began petitioning Ming Siran to offer her as a sacrifice.
Inside and outside the court, officials knelt outside Qianhe Palace, determined to stay there until Ming Siran agreed—even if it took a lifetime.
Even Li Rong, after receiving news that the dispatched imperial physicians had been infected, mentioned to Ming Siran that Zhou Shengsheng possessed unusual abilities and was no ordinary person.
Natural disasters had always been a source of fear for emperors throughout history.
Ming Siran, who had spent years conquering lands and leading the continent’s most formidable army, found himself hesitating in the face of the devastating plague.
Zhou Shengsheng had indeed cured that child’s ulcer.
But this was the plague—a problem even the most learned physicians in the imperial hospital couldn’t solve. What could Zhou Shengsheng possibly do?
Seeking peace and quiet, Ming Siran retreated to a secluded pavilion to rest.
A gentle breeze brushed past, cooling his troubled mind.
“Your Majesty,” a pair of soft, delicate hands suddenly pressed against his temples, gently massaging them.
Perhaps too exhausted to resist, he allowed the hands to continue.
Seeing this, Xie Qingwan smiled softly and leaned closer, her lips brushing his ear as she whispered, “Your Majesty, you are the emperor.”
Ming Siran’s eyes snapped open, and he growled, “Get out!”
Without pleading, Xie Qingwan quickly withdrew.
But her words lingered in his mind like a haunting curse.
---Intermission: The Best Is Yet to Come---
“Shengsheng, tonight’s dinner is so lavish!” Jiang Zhiyu drooled over the array of exquisite dishes on the table.
Zhou Shengsheng glanced at the food for a moment, then smiled faintly.
“Yes, it’s truly lavish...” A last meal before execution—of course, it would be lavish.
Even Xiao Ji’s fruit seemed fresher than usual.
He spent his days either sleeping in the pouch Zhou Shengsheng had sewn into her sleeve or basking in the sun on the beams of Qianhe Palace. He was more aware of the recent events than anyone.
And he knew exactly what this lavish meal signified.
“Here, eat up, Zhiyu. Such delicacies won’t come often in the future,” Zhou Shengsheng said affectionately, serving Jiang Zhiyu more food and patting her head.
After everyone had eaten their fill, she tucked Xiao Ji into her arms and stepped outside, addressing the guards stationed at the door. “I wish to see His Majesty.”
As she walked toward the familiar Qianhe Palace, Zhou Shengsheng calculated that once her plan was set in motion, the six-month deadline would be up...
“Your Majesty,” Zhou Shengsheng knelt on the ground, looking up at Ming Siran, who sat above her, refusing to meet her gaze.
“What is it?” he asked coldly.
“Are you planning to offer me as a sacrifice?” Zhou Shengsheng asked directly.
The room fell silent for a long moment before Ming Siran finally spoke. “Yes.”
“But didn’t Your Majesty say that someone as lowly as me couldn’t possibly affect the fate of the Yong Kingdom? Why the change of heart now?”
Haishan was horrified. He had always thought Zhou Shengsheng was well-mannered—how could she speak so boldly now?
Ming Siran finally looked down at her, his dark eyes icy.
“Whether you’re a harbinger of disaster or not, we’ll find out soon enough,” he said indifferently, as though her life or death meant nothing.
Yes, this was what it meant to be an emperor. Sentimental attachments were trivial in the face of national crisis.
If there was a next life, he would gladly risk everything for this woman who had stirred his heart.
After a long moment of staring at Ming Siran, Zhou Shengsheng nodded softly. “I understand.”
“But, Your Majesty,” she continued, capturing his attention once more, “what if I told you I could cure the plague? Would that mean I wouldn’t have to be sacrificed?”
“Compared to the vague theory of a harbinger of disaster, isn’t curing the plague what truly matters? Or, if I fail, you can still offer me as a sacrifice. It’s not too late.”
Haishan looked at her in shock, then glanced at Ming Siran’s expression.
How could she make such a bold promise?
What if she used this as an opportunity to escape? That would only create more trouble.
Your Majesty, please don’t agree to this!
After a long silence, just as Haishan thought Ming Siran would refuse, he finally spoke.
“Fine.”
