Book Synopsis
Book Tags
Donation Rankings
Comment
0 Comments
You May Also Like
墨書 Inktalez
The incident of the Consort of Prince Chen falling off the cliff sent shockwaves through the former dynasty and the imperial harem. What drew even more attention was the action taken by Prince Chen, Xiao Yu. He abandoned the royal residence and the Ministry of War, disregarding any orders from others, and led countless guards to scour the mountains and rivers where Song Feiwan had fallen.
From upstream to downstream, every inch bore his footprints. Yet, all he found were a few torn fragments of clothing. Upon hearing this news, Noble Consort Rong was greatly shocked and requested to leave the palace. Unexpectedly, the Emperor accompanied her.
Despite their status as elders, even their promise to allow the palace guards to join the search party could not deter Xiao Yu. The news reached the Rong residence shortly after, causing Rong Anning to faint from grief. When she regained consciousness, she insisted on joining Xiao Yu in the search for her brother.
"Where is my brother? Hurry and wake him up! I need to borrow some people from him!" Rong Anning cried as she spoke.
A servant replied, "Miss, the eldest young master has already left with people to search for the Consort of Prince Chen."
Wiping away her tears, Rong Anning went to the Lu residence to gather a group of people. In the end, Xiao Yu even mobilized military forces, determined to move mountains and fill seas in his quest.
Finally, half a month after Song Feiwan's fall, they discovered a severely injured female corpse in a secluded mountain hollow downstream. Her hair was disheveled, and she wore the plain dress from the day she fell; her shoes were long gone.
When Xiao Yu arrived, his feet seemed nailed to the ground as he stared at the corpse for a long time. No one dared to speak; the atmosphere was heavy, only interrupted by the uninvited chill of autumn winds howling past.
From within the group came soft sobs from a woman. Xiao Yu's soul, which had been pulled away, suddenly returned to his body with an overwhelming chill. In just half a month, he had lost considerable weight; dark circles shadowed his eyes, and stubble covered his chin.
With a grim expression, he scolded harshly, "What are you crying for? This isn't her! She can't be dead!"
Before he could finish speaking, he suddenly coughed up a mouthful of blood in a fit of rage. Dizziness washed over him as his knees buckled and he collapsed to the ground with a thud.
The once unyielding and straight back now bore a curve for the first time. It was as if an unbearable weight, heavy as the ten directions of rivers, pressed down upon him. His hands gripped the ground tightly, every bone in his body ached violently, trembling with pain. The sight of her broken, pale corpse haunted him like a nightmare, sweeping across his vision. He tortured himself by refusing to close his eyes.
Guilt, regret, and anguish surged in his mind like crashing waves, while whispers of torment echoed from all directions.
Boom!
He could no longer hold on; shivering, he collapsed straight down.
And then what happened? The princess was buried! Once a person dies, they cannot come back to life!
I say, Your Highness the Crown Prince! Are you so consumed by grief that you’ve lost your appetite and will to live?
You’re mistaken! I heard from my seventh aunt’s sister-in-law’s third uncle’s daughter, who works as a maid in the capital, that after the Crown Prince woke up, he acted as if nothing had happened. He first went to the palace and then returned to his position in the Ministry of War. In recent months, he has been staying at the Ministry of War and sometimes you can see him laughing and chatting with the officials there.
Ah, so he’s not sad anymore? Rumor has it that his love for the Crown Princess was as strong as gold. The commotion he caused while searching for her made it seem like he couldn’t let her go.
Sigh, this just shows that a man’s heart is fickle; perhaps he thinks that after half a month of mourning, it’s enough.
Their conversation was interrupted by a clear and pleasant female voice: “The medicine is ready. After you return, brew one dose each day and take it after dinner.”
The two glanced at the physician before quickly averting their eyes. There was no other reason; the scar on her face was simply too terrifying.
Comment 0 Comment Count