Donghua Palace.
Yun Zhao leaned against the intricately carved golden sandalwood bedpost, hugging her knees as she gazed out the window.
She had always been pampered and indulged, accustomed to acting on her whims. Even after causing such a disaster, she wasn’t afraid—her dictionary had never included the word “fear.”
Nor did she regret it. If given the chance to do it all over again, Yun Zhao felt she would make the same choice.
She was just sad.
The emotion was sour and bitter, tightly coiled around her chest, tugging at her heart with every breath.
The sounds and images from that moment kept replaying in her mind.
“Ah Zhao. Am I really so unworthy of your trust?”
“You can’t trample on my heart like this, Yun Zhao.”
His reddened eyes, his trembling restraint.
Her Yan Nantian looked so heartbroken.
A group of palace attendants quietly entered the chamber, bowing to Yun Zhao before swiftly cleaning up the water spilled on the floor and moving the crystal vases in the room.
The gauzy fabric floated in the water, half-curled like crumpled wastepaper.
The elder attendant stepped forward and softly explained to Yun Zhao, “His Highness ordered the poison to be removed, fearing it might harm you.”
Yun Zhao’s lips moved slightly. “Oh.”
The attendants bowed silently and withdrew.
Yun Zhao remained seated, her eyes following the drifting gauze until it left the chamber and disappeared from her sight.
What would happen to it?
She didn’t want to think about it.
*
The sunlight slowly shifted across the latticed window, the passing clouds casting shadows that flickered between light and dark.
Yun Zhao looked out the window, feeling for the first time how vast Donghua Palace was. She felt like a lone ant within its walls.
Yan Nantian was too busy to pay attention to her, and he probably didn’t want to either.
Yun Zhao rested her chin on her knees.
Unexpectedly, before dinner, Yan Nantian sent her a note.
It was hastily folded, clearly written in a rush and handed off to someone to deliver to her.
Yun Zhao reached out and took the thin, cold piece of paper.
She unconsciously gripped it tightly, her fingertips turning white.
After a long pause, she calmly unfolded it.
She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and then slowly lowered her gaze.
It was still his elegant, bold handwriting.
The first line read: “I’ve been ordered to care for the patient, Wen Nuannuan. It’s out of my control, please forgive me.”
The second line: “You can be angry, but you must eat.”
Yun Zhao: “…”
He had specifically sent this to comfort her before dinner.
For a moment, Yun Zhao’s emotions were a tangled mess, both annoyed and amused.
She muttered, “Does he think I’m a child?”
She felt slightly lighter.
The guard captain who delivered the note stood silently, eyes downcast.
Yun Zhao looked back at the note, frowning in confusion. “Wen Nuannuan didn’t die? How is she still alive?”
The guard captain answered honestly, “I don’t know, Your Highness.”
Yun Zhao pursed her lips, her eyes flickering with thought.
“Next Year’s Dawn” was a deadly poison, capable of killing even the mightiest beasts. How could she have survived?
Was Wen Nuannuan truly some kind of “chosen heroine” protected by fate?
Yun Zhao asked, “Can I go home?”
The guard captain replied apologetically, “His Highness has instructed that it’s best for you to remain on Ninefold Mountain for now.”
Yun Zhao narrowed her eyes.
Yan Nantian knew her family situation well.
Her father, General Yun, was often away on campaigns, and her mother, Lady Xiangyang, was a spoiled firecracker, even more impulsive than Yun Zhao herself.
If Lady Xiangyang found out about this, a small matter would turn into a major explosion.
Yun Zhao had already made up her mind. She deliberately asked in a cold tone, “What if I insist on going home? Would you dare to stop me?”
The guard captain was clearly troubled. “I wouldn’t dare… but I would have to inform His Highness first…”
Yun Zhao: “Then never mind. Yan Nantian is probably very busy in the palace.”
The guard captain sighed in relief. “Yes, Your Highness.”
Yun Zhao added, “He told me to pray for Wen Nuannuan to die slowly—can I at least go to the Ancient Day Court to pray?”
The guard captain: “…”
This little troublemaker was never going to follow the rules.
“The Ancient Day Court is on Ninefold Mountain, isn’t it?” Yun Zhao was on the verge of losing her temper. “If not, then I’m going home!”
The guard captain made a quick decision. “Of course, Your Highness.”
His Highness had only said she wasn’t to leave Ninefold Mountain.
*
When she left Donghua Palace, it was dusk once again.
Descending the palace steps, Yun Zhao turned back to look—just yesterday, she had stood here, locking eyes with Yan Nantian across the long stone staircase.
In just one day, their relationship felt like it had traversed countless mountains and rivers.
The guard captain followed silently behind Yun Zhao.
He was a master of internal martial arts, his footsteps completely silent, so much so that she soon forgot he was there.
Yun Zhao had long grown tired of the opulent grandeur of the royal gardens and palaces.
She walked purposefully eastward.
After passing through a grove of golden-leaved, red-spotted imperial osmanthus trees, the landscape suddenly opened up.
Even though it wasn’t her first time here, Yun Zhao was still awestruck by the vastness and grandeur of the Ancient Day Court.
The Ancient Day Court stretched endlessly to the horizon.
The gray-white ruins of painted walls and carved pillars were bathed in the golden light of the setting sun. It looked as if the sun god himself had descended, and the ancient gods had returned.
This massive ruin, once a temple to the gods in ancient times, was now called the Ancient Day Court.
The air was thick with the weight of history.
Standing at the edge of the broken walls, the vast landscape stretched out before her.
Yun Zhao muttered to herself, “If I pray here, I’m not sure if the gods in heaven will hear me, but the Emperor on earth definitely won’t.”
She jumped onto a tilted, collapsed stone pillar, stepping on the ancient, mysterious yin-yang carvings, and spread her arms, wobbling step by step as she climbed higher.
At the top, there was nothing but a chasm on either side.
The view here was unparalleled—whether it was the imperial city to the west, the Ancient Day Court to the east, the Yun residence to the south, or the red-glowing Sky-Reaching Tower, everything was clearly visible.
Yun Zhao turned around to see if the guard captain had followed her—she planned to find some excuse to send him away.
From dusk to nightfall, it felt like only a blink of an eye.
The night sky draped over the land like a dark, bluish cloth—whoosh—the vast expanse of gray-white ruins lost their luster.
From the other end of the stone pillar, a figure slowly approached.
Tall and burly, his body swayed slightly, his steps heavy. Each footfall sent a dull vibration through the pillar.
Yun Zhao called out, “Be careful! If you collapse this pillar, I’ll fall!”
“Thud, thud, thud…”
The figure didn’t respond, continuing to move toward her.
Yun Zhao suddenly caught the smell of blood mixed with the decay of damp earth.
In the dim light of dusk, she couldn’t see clearly, but upon closer inspection, she noticed the figure’s clothes were tattered.
…This wasn’t the guard captain.
The pillar trembled beneath her feet. Yun Zhao was stranded in mid-air, with nowhere to run.
“Old Zhao! Where are you?”
Only the cold wind sweeping through the ruins answered her.
Closer… closer…
The stench of blood grew stronger, making her breathing sticky, her lungs feeling as if they were drowning.
The figure stopped three feet away from Yun Zhao, his head lifting with a creaking sound.
A beam of moonlight pierced through the clouds, illuminating the space between them.
The figure’s face was smeared with blood and dirt, his body broken in several places, bones jutting through his skin, every joint twisted unnaturally.
His hair and clothes were caked with dust, as if he had just crawled out of a grave.
A man who was unmistakably dead.
Yun Zhao recognized his face—the assassin. The one her mother had sent to kill Wen Nuannuan.
Yun Zhao stared at him in shock.
One of his eyes was gone, his face contorted with the pain and fear he had carried to his death.
Even in death, he hadn’t found peace.
Yan Nantian had said, “We used some methods, and he confessed. He was Fang Jianyi’s man.”
This man had been killed and buried by Yan Nantian.
Was he really that ruthless?
The mangled corpse opened its mouth slowly, a rasping sound escaping its throat.
“He… he…” The dead assassin’s voice was like a broken bellows. “Light… the lamp… second watch…”
Yun Zhao: “…”
“He heard the second watch bell.”
Someone kindly translated for her.
The voice was pleasant, cool and clear, tinged with amusement.
Yun Zhao turned to see a cloaked figure standing behind her, his face hidden in shadow, his jawline sharp and handsome in the moonlight.
He asked her, “Do you want to know how he died?”
Yun Zhao: “No.”
A dead-end response.
He expressed regret. “I dug him up with great effort. I didn’t know what to bring for our second meeting, so I thought you might appreciate a familiar face.”
Yun Zhao: "Oh."
She noticed a dragonfly perched on his shoulder. Under the moonlight, the dragonfly's wings shimmered faintly blue, resembling the hue of Lingyun flower juice.
"I figured these are all illusions. You can't scare me," Yun Zhao stated bluntly. "I came to ask you..."
Her tone was icy, "Is it true that the protagonist can't be killed?"
He paused, then burst into laughter.
"Truly dedicated," he remarked. "Is it really the fate of a villain to court death?"
Yun Zhao nodded: "You once said that my mother tried to kill Wen Nuannuan's birth mother and ended up causing her own demise. I tried to kill Wen Nuannuan and ended up harming myself. I've tried..."
She fell silent for a moment, "In the end, it only hurt both of us."
He chuckled softly: "Hurt? Are you sure?"
Yun Zhao didn't want to argue with him; she had no trust in this person whatsoever.
She got straight to the point: "Last time, you mentioned cooperation. How do we cooperate?"
His fingers tapped lightly at his side.
"I can offer an idea," he said, "as a gesture of goodwill."
"Go on!"
He spoke, each word laced with amusement: "Since you can't kill her, and your mother couldn't kill her mother, why not switch things up? Try killing her mother instead."
Yun Zhao was stunned: "...You really are a genius villain!"
This idea seemed feasible at first glance.
Yun Zhao, by nature, disliked taking advantage of others. She tilted her chin up at him: "Then tell me, what kind of mischief are you planning? Maybe I can help too."
He laughed softly.
After a moment, he raised his hand and pointed toward the towering Sky-Reaching Tower that stood tall on the earth, reaching toward the heavens.
"Destroy it," he said cheerfully.
Yun Zhao: "..."
That was the Sky-Reaching Tower, a structure built by the Great Ji Dynasty through generations, using all the nation's resources. Not only was it impossible to destroy, but even delaying its progress would be a crime punishable by the extermination of one's entire family.
Moreover, the tower itself was an indestructible sacred artifact.
If it were to be destroyed, the capital city would likely be reduced to ashes.
Yun Zhao was in awe: "Now that’s courting world-ending destruction!"
