The King of Sheng ground his teeth, trembling.
“I never should have let you live…”
Back when disaster struck the Wu Family, Wu Ciyun had begged for her life, even volunteering to serve as Executioner during the Execution List for her family.
He had relented and spared her, but never imagined she’d become such a threat.
“I thank Your Majesty for not killing me back then. I am deeply grateful, so I came today to repay the favor.”
Wu Ciyun smiled faintly and ordered, “Take His Majesty to identify the graves.”
At her command, the guards hauled the King of Sheng up by the hair, forcing his head to bow before each tombstone.
The ground was frozen hard in winter; soon his forehead was bloodied, the blood staining the snow as brightly as when the Wu Family was executed four years ago.
The Chamberlain courteously brought Wu Ciyun a round-backed chair.
The night wind was cold, so she wrapped herself in her cloak and sat, calmly looking down at the King of Sheng’s sorry state.
She asked unhurriedly, “Your Majesty, do you admit your mistakes?”
The King of Sheng’s head spun, blackness clouding his vision.
He looked at Wu Ciyun and, for some unknown reason, suddenly shouted in rage, “What mistake have I made! I am the Son of Heaven, ruler of the world! If the Emperor wants a subject dead, the subject must die! So what if I slaughtered the Wu Family!”
To exterminate the Wu Family, he’d ordered officials and eunuchs to frame them, piling up more than ten charges: deceiving the sovereign, forming factions, corruption, raising Private Troops, and more.
“Your Majesty is quite right.”
Wu Ciyun was not angry, only smiled faintly.
“So today, the victor is king and the loser is outlaw. Now I want Your Majesty dead, and you cannot escape it either.”
As soon as she finished, the guards by her side swung their blades, chopping off one of the King of Sheng’s fingers.
He screamed, but before he could dodge, the guards hacked off the rest of his fingers, then his hand.
In the cold pine grove, his screams mingled with the cries of crows.
Wu Ciyun yawned as she lounged in her chair, as if watching a dull opera rather than a lingering execution.
To keep him from dying too quickly, the guards would pause, pouring a bowl of hemostatic decoction into his mouth.
“Wu Ciyun…”
The King of Sheng glared at her with venomous eyes, enduring the agony as he trembled, “Tell me… let me die knowing—how did you do it…”
He knew well Wu Ciyun’s talent—after all, he’d chosen her as top scholar, a Threefold Top Scorer, a prodigy of her generation.
He’d thought of killing Wu Ciyun, but she’d first defected, then cleared herself of suspicion, and with others pleading for her, he’d reluctantly spared her life, demoting her to Lingzhou.
Over four years, Wu Ciyun achieved remarkable results wherever she went, winning the people’s love.
She nearly lost her life fighting a plague in Lingzhou; the King of Sheng promoted Cui Wenhua, then transferred Wu Ciyun to Yunzhou.
There, she invented new farming tools, yielding a great harvest, so the King of Sheng rewarded Yunzhou’s governor and demoted Wu Ciyun again to serve as County Magistrate, Seventh Rank in a subordinate county of Ning Prefecture.
Wu Ciyun spent a year and a half as County Magistrate of Ping Su, not only surviving the Prince of Pingnan’s schemes, but also overturning five years of unjust cases, bringing peace to the people.
This time, before he could demote her again, Wu Ciyun joined the rebels and marched straight for the Capital.
She was supposed to be a mere ant he could crush, yet she colluded with Prince Rui, allied with the Su Family, and even conspired with the Liang Dynasty. Now she dared to be so arrogant before him.
“Let me die with understanding.”
The King of Sheng crawled through the snow, staring fixedly at Wu Ciyun.
After a long moment, he suddenly laughed madly, eyes bloodshot.
“I was right to kill Wu Nanshan, wasn’t I?”
He’d fabricated countless charges against Wu Nanshan, knowing full well they were baseless.
The King of Sheng had always thought himself in control, but only now realized something was wrong.
“Wu Ciyun, come closer… I have only one question.”
He lay gasping on the ground, losing consciousness from blood loss, but still forced himself to ask.
Wu Ciyun looked at him, then slowly stood and walked over.
The guards wanted to stop her, but she raised her hand slightly and they stepped aside.
“What does Your Majesty wish to ask?”
“Did Wu Nanshan really raise Private Troops in secret?”
His tone was questioning, but his words were full of certainty.
“And now the military power is in your hands.”
Wu Ciyun raised her eyebrows, neither confirming nor denying.
She smiled faintly, “Your Majesty’s insight comes too late. But you’re surrounded by Prince Rui’s guards—if you want to shout, go ahead. I won’t stop you.”
“Ridiculous… utterly ridiculous.”
The King of Sheng threw his head back and laughed, his dragon robe soaked in blood, the embroidered dragon now a hideous centipede.
Staring at the stars through the trees, he muttered, “My empire is going to bear the surname Wu…”
His dear brother Prince Rui thought he’d win the throne, not knowing that the mantis stalks the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind. He too was just a pawn to be used.
Wu Ciyun, seeing this, lost interest.
She glanced at the King of Sheng, now barely alive, and said calmly, “Finish it.”
The King of Sheng had a rare moment of clarity before death, but hindsight was useless now.
Wu Ciyun roughly estimated the time and ordered the coachman to hurry back to the Wu Mansion.
Though Rong Tan was new here, he quickly became as beloved as Housekeeper Rong had been in Ning Prefecture, winning everyone’s respect within hours.
His method was simple—spend money. If you paid people, they smiled at you.
If it didn’t work, you just hadn’t paid enough yet.
During the holidays, the household always issued an extra half-month’s wages, which came from the accounts office—at least, that’s how it was before Rong Tan arrived.
But lately, Rong Tan worried Wu Ciyun was short on cash and might dabble in fake antiques, so he just covered the cost himself.
He even used Wu Ciyun’s name to grant everyone an additional half-month’s pay—including Jia Weizhen, who was still hiding in his room.
It wasn’t much money anyway.
Ever since he realized his own identity might be exposed, Rong Tan stopped pretending.
He spent money like water—before, it was a gentle stream; now, it was a flood.
The attendants wanted to stop him, telling him that spending money on a man who didn’t belong would bring a lifetime of bad luck.
But then they thought—this money had to be spent.
Their lord was of noble birth, not some country bumpkin.
He deserved the best of everything.
Wu Ciyun’s salary couldn’t possibly support him.
If the accounts ran dry, they couldn’t let their lord eat gruel, could they?
With Rong Tan’s generous bonuses, all the servants were overjoyed, cooking with the delicacy of embroiderers, every dish exquisite, and auspicious phrases flowing nonstop.
Rong Tan didn’t care for “good fortune and prosperity” or “all wishes fulfilled.” He wanted to hear people say he and Wu Ciyun were “a talented woman and handsome man, a golden couple destined for a hundred years.”
But no one said it, nor could they.
Rong Tan thought back—seems the last person to say he and Wu Ciyun were a perfect match was Xiao Boming.
At that time, Xiao Boming had barged into the mansion with a whip, lashed out at him without hesitation, and shouted, “Yun Lang only plays with you for your looks—did you really think you’d be together for a hundred years?”
Thinking of this, Rong Tan sighed softly.
The food on the table had long gone cold.
Wu Mingzhu and Wu Liangyu were fast asleep on the soft couch, but Wu Ciyun still hadn’t returned.
He sat by the window, head propped on his hand, dozing off.
Just as he was about to fall asleep, a cold hand brushed his neck.
Rong Tan’s eyes flew open, surprise lighting his face.
“Ah Yun, you…”
Wu Ciyun covered his mouth and whispered, “Quiet—are Mingzhu and Liangyu asleep?”
Rong Tan’s eyes curved in a smile as he replied softly, “Already asleep. Children need lots of rest—most can’t stay up all night for Staying Up to See in the New Year.”
Wu Ciyun tiptoed over to the couch.
The two children sprawled in deep sleep, occasionally mumbling in their dreams.
She was about to tuck them in, but Wu Liangyu, a light sleeper, sensed her presence and burrowed into her arms.
Wu Ciyun chuckled, “Little pig.”
“…Huh? Is Big Brother calling me?”
Wu Mingzhu, half-asleep, heard her name and forced her eyes open.
Seeing Wu Ciyun had returned, she flung herself into her arms, whispering, “Big Brother, why are you back so late?”
“It was too dark tonight, so the carriage moved slowly.”
Wu Ciyun made up an excuse. Wu Mingzhu didn’t think much of it and soon drifted off again.
Rong Tan stood by, watching the scene.
It was rare to see Wu Ciyun so gentle.
He gazed greedily at her warm, soft smile, deliberately ignoring the faint scent of blood on her.
Wu Ciyun soothed the children back to sleep but found herself wide awake.
She told A Ming to bring a chessboard and played a game with Rong Tan.
With the two children sleeping in the inner room, and himself playing chess with his beloved under the night sky, Rong Tan felt it was a happiness he’d never dared to dream of.
Though there was no moon tonight, Rong Tan still said softly, “Ah Yun, I really wish time could stop right here forever.”
Wu Ciyun placed a piece on the board and, a bit surprised, glanced up at him, frowning.
“What nonsense are you talking about?”
Her grand ambitions were just beginning.
Only a fool would want to stand still.