On the journey back, Shen Miao kept thinking about Empress Xian De's words. Her heart remained restless for a long time, unable to truly settle.
On the surface, Consort Jing was now in a state where both mother and child were safe, and Empress Xian De had not been found at fault in the incident. Everything appeared to have ended neatly and satisfactorily. Yet Shen Miao could not shake the feeling that something was amiss. When they returned to the Prince Rui Residence, the sky was already beginning to pale with the coming dawn. It was far too late to sleep, and even if she tried, Shen Miao knew she would have no mood to rest.
Seeing this, Jing Zhe and Gu Yi instructed the small kitchens to prepare sweet soup for the two of them. When Shen Miao and Xie Jing Xing returned to their room, the doors were closed tightly. They sat facing each other at the table, steam rising faintly from the bowls.
After a moment of silence, Shen Miao looked up at Xie Jing Xing. "Jing Fēi is pregnant," she said slowly. "What will the Lu family do?"
By all logic, Consort Jing's child was extraordinarily precious. Emperor Yong Le had no other children, and if Consort Jing carried a son, then barring any unforeseen accidents, the future position of the Monarch should naturally fall to the child in her womb. Reason dictated this outcome. Yet from Empress Xian De's words, it was clear that matters were not so simple, which made the entire situation deeply thought-provoking.
Could it be that Emperor Yong Le still had other children?
Otherwise, how could the situation be treated so lightly? The Lu family currently acted without fear because of Consort Jing—but could Emperor Yong Le's plans for the Lu family truly be this shallow?
Shen Miao did not believe it.
When Xie Jing Xing heard her question, he replied evenly, "Huáng Xiōng has already taken action against the Lu family. Whether one survives or not makes no difference."
Those words made the boundary clear. The child in Consort Jing's womb was one matter; the fate of the Lu family was another entirely. At most, Consort Jing could temporarily preserve her own life through the child, but the Lu family's downfall would proceed as planned.
Shen Miao frowned. "I spoke with Huánghòu Niángniáng, and something felt strange. I heard that Huánghòu Niángniáng once suffered a miscarriage, and that it was caused by Jing Fēi. Regardless of whether it was intentional or accidental, no matter how magnanimous Huánghòu Niángniáng is, how could she truly watch Jing Fēi live safely and well for so many years?"
Xie Jing Xing was pouring her a cup of tea. When he heard those words, his hand paused slightly.
Shen Miao stared at him. "Tell me honestly—why does Huángshàng not have any children until now? Was it deliberate, or was it unavoidable?"
No matter how she turned it over in her mind, Shen Miao found it far too strange. Every Emperor—whether wise or incompetent—would want many children. The more children there were, the more checks and balances would exist, and the more stable the Imperial court would become. Even Fu Xiu Yi did not lack descendants.
Previously, Shen Miao had only thought it strange that Emperor Yong Le was so capable in court and that the common people lived and worked in peace. Why, then, was the court still so turbulent beneath the surface? Only now did she understand—it was because of the issue of heirs.
Just this single point—that Emperor Yong Le had no children—was enough to keep the court restless and vocal. Speaking of which, Emperor Yong Le was considered exceptionally capable. Had it been any other Emperor, one without a son would likely have long since been forced aside or reduced to an ordinary figure, let alone maintaining the balance of power for so many years.
Xie Jing Xing looked at Shen Miao for a long time before responding. His gaze was deep and somewhat strange, as though weighing whether she was ready to hear the truth.
"You really want to know?" he asked quietly.
"Ever since you were brought back unconscious from the Imperial Hunt, I felt that some things would inevitably change," Shen Miao said slowly. "But at that time, I had only just arrived in Long Ye. I did not understand the situation in Great Liang, nor did I know its internal affairs. I was unable to help you in any meaningful way. Other than going to Feng Tou Zhuang to look for that person, there was nothing else I could do."
She lifted her eyes to look at him, her gaze clear and unwavering. "I do not like being passive. If one day comes when you must do something momentous, I do not want to realise then that I am completely useless. Yet I have no knowledge of these matters. Even if I have the heart to help, without understanding, how could I possibly help at all?"
Xie Jing Xing looked at her quietly for a long moment. Then he suddenly sighed.
Half of that sigh carried genuine gratification; the other half held a trace of teasing amusement. He reached out and stroked her head lightly. "So our Jiao Jiao is not only capable of scheming against others," he said with a smile, "but can also be considerate of others."
Shen Miao brushed his hand away without hesitation. "You cannot always let me be a rice worm who knows only how to eat."
"I would never dare to underestimate you," Xie Jing Xing replied, still smiling. "Since you want to know, I will not hide it from you. You once told me that you had a dream—one that felt very real, and very tragic. What I am about to tell you now is not a dream."
He paused.
"These are things that truly happened."
He continued, "From Long Ye to Ding capital, even with fast horses, it would take at least half a year. Did you always wonder how I became the son of the Marquis of Lin An?" His voice lowered slightly. "Even though I have known my identity for many years, I did not return to Great Liang. It was not because I did not wish to return."
His gaze sharpened gradually, becoming keen and dangerous.
"It was because I could not return."
Xie Jing Xing's real name was Xie Yuan, and his styled name was Jing Xing, taken from the phrase 'behold a tall mountain that has upright scenery' (高山仰止,景行行止). The meaning was clear—the one who named him hoped he would become a noble and upright person.
Whether he ultimately lived up to those words was another matter entirely.
But the person who gave him that name loved him deeply.
The one who bestowed his personal name was his Imperial Father, Emperor Xiao Wu, Xie Yi Long. The one who gave him his styled name was his Imperial Mother, Empress Jing Xian, Empress Xiao.
Originally, Emperor Xiao Wu had been the most outstanding ruler of Great Liang's dynasty. He held military power firmly in his hands, pacified the four seas, and was both handsome and heroic. If there was one flaw, it lay in his birth—he was the youngest son.
In Great Liang, the rule of succession had always been clear: the throne passed to the eldest, not the younger. This had been the law since the founding of the dynasty.
Yet Xie Yi Long was too outstanding.
And the more outstanding a person was, the more such "minor rules" faded from his eyes. Ambition, once ignited, was difficult to suppress. Unfortunately, Xie Yi Long was precisely such a man. Compounding this was the fact that the Crown Prince of the time was markedly inferior to him.
Thus, Xie Yi Long eventually embarked upon the path of fighting for the heir apparent position.
That path was alarmingly smooth.
He possessed natural advantages—he was the son of the Empress, and he had accumulated immense military merit. With careful planning, Xie Yi Long framed his blood-related Eldest Brother, the Crown Prince, drove his Imperial Mother to her death through fury and despair, seized control of his Imperial Father, and ultimately ascended the throne.
Thus, he became Emperor Xiao Wu.
On the road of fighting for the heir apparent position, there were always things that had to be sacrificed—family affection, trust, and love. At that time, Xie Yi Long believed that none of these mattered. He was an ambitious man, and ambition was the only thing that truly occupied his heart.
Thus, he married the daughter of the Prime Minister Xiao family.
The Xiao family stood at the head of Great Liang's civil officials. By marrying the Xiao family's daughter, Xie Yi Long secured the support of the majority of Great Liang's aristocratic civil families. Moreover, the Xiao family's daughter was renowned for her beauty, intelligence, and magnanimity. An intelligent beauty brought no disadvantage—only benefit. From every angle, this marriage was exceedingly advantageous.
After ascending the Imperial throne, Emperor Xiao Wu and Empress Jing Xian treated each other with appropriate respect and consideration. Emperor Xiao Wu was recognised as a wise monarch, while Empress Jing Xian was praised throughout the realm as virtuous and benevolent. On the surface, everything appeared ideal and harmonious.
Not long after, Empress Jing Xian gave birth to Xie Chi, who was established as the Crown Prince.
At that time, Great Liang's territory continued to expand, its national strength growing steadily until it became the most powerful among the three nations. From every perspective, the future seemed bright, prosperous, and secure.
Yet in this world, the hardest thing to preserve was permanence.
Empress Xiao had married Emperor Xiao Wu during a period of chaos. Husband and wife complemented one another perfectly—one strong in martial prowess, the other accomplished in civil governance. Xie Yi Long was ambitious and resolute; Empress Xiao was calm and steady. Xie Yi Long possessed sharp means and bold strategies; Empress Xiao was thoughtful, resourceful, and intelligent.
But when enemies beyond the borders were gradually eliminated, the spear naturally turned inward.
Emperor Xiao Wu was, at his core, a man driven by ambition. In the beginning, he had relied on countless schemes and ruthless methods to seize the throne. His ambition was born of desire, and once desire took root, suspicion inevitably followed. He gradually began to suspect that the Xiao family harboured intentions of becoming an external clan that wielded excessive power.
The more virtuous and intelligent Empress Xiao appeared, the deeper Emperor Xiao Wu's suspicions grew.
In order to counterbalance the influence of the Xiao family, Emperor Xiao Wu began to expand the Inner Palace. He promoted women from other aristocratic families to high positions, deliberately setting them against the Xiao family. In the court, he allowed the civil factions to struggle; within the Inner Palace, he forced Empress Xiao to contend with women from rival noble houses.
Empress Xiao was intelligent and dignified. After marriage, she had strictly adhered to her family teachings—treating her husband as Heaven itself. Moreover, Xie Yi Long truly was an extraordinary man among men. For many years, husband and wife had lived in harmony, sharing both hardship and glory.
But gradually, chaos seeped in.
Those women in the Inner Palace began to give birth to Princes. One by one, they schemed endlessly, racking their brains to threaten Xie Chi's position as Crown Prince. What had once been balance turned into danger, and what had once been restraint became provocation.
In the end, Empress Xiao could no longer sit back and ignore it.
Every woman—no matter how gentle or seemingly weak—would become a beast when it came to protecting her child. Empress Xiao was certainly no fragile white rabbit.
Born into the Xiao family, one of the most prestigious aristocratic households, she had risen to become its most outstanding Young Lady. Such a position was not earned through luck alone. She possessed intelligence, resolve, and an unyielding will. When her child's safety was threatened, she launched her counterattack without hesitation.
To have stood beside Emperor Xiao Wu through the years of chaos, Empress Xiao's abilities were never something to be underestimated. How could those pampered, delicate beauties—raised in comfort and luxury—hope to compete with her? To challenge Empress Xiao was nothing more than inviting humiliation upon themselves.
Under her protection, Xie Chi remained safe and unharmed. Time and again, Empress Xiao emerged victorious. She displayed both strength and keen intellect, striking decisively and leaving no openings behind. Her methods were clean, her judgment sharp, and her success so overwhelming that it shocked the Inner Palace. Eventually, no one dared to act rashly against her.
Yet even the most intelligent person could make mistakes.
The more outstanding Empress Xiao proved herself to be, the more unsettled Emperor Xiao Wu became.
His wariness towards her deepened, gradually transforming into suspicion. He began to search deliberately for her faults. At first, he merely placed rivals around her in the Inner Palace, watching coldly as they clashed, treating the struggles as a form of balance. Later, his attitude changed. He consciously favoured the opposing side, and no matter what Empress Xiao did, it was deemed wrong.
Eventually, he no longer concealed his bias.
He began to suppress the Xiao family openly, without the slightest hesitation.
Empress Xiao felt deeply wronged. Yet she told herself that Emperor Xiao Wu was her husband, and that every person became confused at certain points in life. She believed that as long as she maintained her position, protected her child, and ensured Xie Chi grew up safely, everything would eventually settle.
All she needed was time.
She would watch as Xie Chi matured, ascended the throne smoothly, and ruled the country in due course.
Who could have imagined—
That those women would dare to set their sights on Xie Chi himself?
During that period, Emperor Xiao Wu suddenly began to show warmth towards Empress Xiao once more. His attitude softened, his concern appeared genuine, and his attention returned to her as though the past estrangement had never existed. Empress Xiao did not understand this sudden change in his behaviour, yet she could not immediately see through it.
Not long after, Prime Minister Xiao unexpectedly submitted a request to resign from his post of his own accord.
Xie Yi Long was a man of formidable means and ruthless calculation. No matter how powerful or vicious the Xiao family might be, they were ultimately no match for him. It had taken the Xiao family several hundred years to produce an Empress. For the sake of this Empress, the Xiao family would willingly sacrifice themselves without hesitation.
By the time Empress Xiao learned the truth, everything was already too late.
Only then did she realise that those seemingly warm nights, the restored intimacy, and the tender concern were nothing more than part of Xie Yi Long's carefully laid scheme. The realisation made her feel sick to her stomach. Yet what she had not anticipated—what she could never have foreseen—was that she would become pregnant.
The flesh growing in her womb was entirely different from Xie Chi.
This child had come into the world through Xie Yi Long's deliberate deception and hypocritical manipulation. Each time Empress Xiao felt the life within her, her heart was filled with complicated emotions. She often thought that if this child were a son, he must never become like his father. He could possess ambition. He could even scheme and plot if he must. But he could never be allowed to trample upon another person's sincere heart.
To exploit genuine affection was the most despicable act of all—and also the most shameful.
After becoming pregnant, many things became inconvenient for Empress Xiao. Her movements slowed, her vigilance inevitably loosened, and her attention was divided. She never imagined that someone would seize this opportunity—using her condition as a weakness—to act against Xie Chi.
Before she could react—
Xie Chi was drugged.
It was an exceptionally fierce and sudden poison. Had it not been for the old friendship between Prime Minister Xiao and the head of the Gao family, and had the head of the Gao family not personally taken charge of the treatment, Xie Chi would not have survived that incident at all.
Even so, survival came at a terrible price.
After stabilising Xie Chi, the master of the Gao family gave his diagnosis. The poison had already penetrated deep into the organs. What they were doing now was merely prolonging time. Xie Chi would not live past the age of thirty-five. Worse still, the poison would affect his descendants as well. From that moment onward, if Xie Chi were ever to have children, it would be inevitable that they would suffer from congenital deficiencies—or that the poison itself would be passed on within their bodies.
No matter how one looked at it, none of this could be considered good news.
The master of the Gao family was known throughout the realm as a god-like physician, one of the rare few beneath Heaven. If even he said such words, then Xie Chi's fate was all but sealed. The person behind this plot had aimed directly at Xie Chi's life. And even if they failed to kill him outright, they intended to destroy his entire future.
Empress Xiao had never imagined that her life would come to such an end.
She had been the most outstanding Di daughter of the Xiao family, known throughout the realm for her virtue and dignity. She was the revered Empress of Great Liang, praised under Heaven. Yet in order to protect her, her entire clan voluntarily withdrew from Great Liang's officialdom. Of her two children, one was doomed to an incomplete life under such vicious schemes, while the other was a fruit born entirely from poison and deceit.
The perpetrator behind the poisoning was eventually uncovered.
It was the very favoured consort whom Emperor Xiao Wu had only just elevated.
Empress Xiao had that favoured consort bound and dragged into the Imperial Gardens. There, she personally sliced the woman's flesh, piece by piece, watching coldly as life drained from her body. She did not look away even once. The palace maids and eunuchs present trembled violently as they watched, some collapsing in fear, others barely able to stand.
Yet Empress Xiao felt no satisfaction.
Not even the slightest.
No amount of blood could return her son's stolen future.No amount of screaming could undo the poison already etched into his life.
What meaning was there left in vengeance?
Emperor Xiao Wu naturally issued harsh reprimands and placed the blame upon the favoured consort. He personally presided over her punishment, pronounced her crimes, and afterwards offered gentle words of comfort to Empress Xiao. Yet as Empress Xiao listened to his soft consolations, her heart was already as cold as ice, her thoughts filled with nothing but caution and vigilance.
Did Emperor Xiao Wu know of this matter—or did he not?
After being married to Emperor Xiao Wu for so many years, Empress Xiao felt that she had to examine this man once more, carefully and without sentiment. Even if Emperor Xiao Wu truly had no knowledge of the poisoning, the fact remained that this favoured consort had been deliberately elevated to counterbalance her.
One might say that one did not kill Bo Ren, yet Bo Ren died because of one.
Even if Emperor Xiao Wu had not wielded the blade himself, his actions had still led to the tragedy.
From that moment onward, invisible defences were erected deep within Empress Xiao's heart. Yet on the surface, she deliberately appeared wan and weakened, consumed by sorrow over the misfortune that had befallen her son.
The incurable poison within Xie Chi's body was not widely known. For the time being, the matter had been sealed tightly. But who could say whether others might learn of it in the future? Power struggles thrived on secrets, and secrets never remained buried forever.
What worried Empress Xiao most, however, was something else entirely.
It was almost time for her to give birth.
Emperor Xiao Wu had already grown suspicious of the Xie family's treatment of Xie Chi. If the child in her womb were a son, then should anything happen to Xie Chi, this newborn could easily replace him and ascend to the position of Crown Prince.
Would this child become the next Xie Chi?
If it were a daughter, Empress Xiao was even more unwilling to let her remain within the Palace—trapped, manipulated daily, and deprived of the right to determine her own destiny.
No matter which outcome awaited her, none were acceptable.
Most importantly, Empress Xiao had already made her decision.
She would begin to fight back.
After giving birth to this child, she intended to return—one by one—all the suffering endured by the Xiao family, by Xie Chi, and by herself. Yet with a newborn in her arms, there would inevitably be countless inconveniences. A helpless infant could easily become a tool controlled by others.
Thus, she needed a way out.
She needed a path that would preserve this child's life while removing him from the vortex of imperial power.
Substituting a raccoon for the Crown Prince—
In common terms, it meant that the true Crown Prince would be sent far away from the destiny that should have been his, while the substitute would take everything that never belonged to him.
And in doing so, both lives would be irreversibly altered.
Empress Xiao entrusted the newborn child into the arms of her most loyal confidant. Her voice was calm, yet every word carried a weight that could not be shaken.
"Behold a tall mountain that has upright scenery—gāo shān yǎng zhǐ, jǐng xíng xíng zhǐ," she said slowly. "His styled name shall be Jing Xing (景行). If one day he grows into a man of indomitable spirit, he may scheme and plot as the world demands—but he must never exploit another person's sincere heart."
She lowered her gaze and looked at the child one final time, imprinting his features deeply into her memory, as though she were engraving them into her soul. Then she turned away and said only two words, firm and final:
"Send him away."
Thus began the flight.
In merely two months, countless horses collapsed from exhaustion. That journey—one that normally took half a year from Long Ye to Ding capital—was forced through at a merciless pace. From the very moment Xie Yuan opened his eyes to the world, what greeted him was not warmth or celebration, but escape.
In those days of fleeing, his eyes were wide with instinctive alertness. His cries were hoarse and broken, mingled with the sound of hooves and wind. Before he could even understand the meaning of life, he was already learning—through hunger, cold, and danger—how to contend with the world.
At the same time, in the Marquis of Lin An's residence in Ding capital, Princess Yu Qing was approaching childbirth.
Originally, Empress Xiao's confidant had intended to follow her orders strictly and place Xie Yuan into an ordinary yet well-off household, far removed from imperial struggles and courtly disputes. That would have ensured the child's anonymity and safety.
Yet on that very day, while making discreet inquiries in the streets, the confidant learned—by pure chance—that Princess Yu Qing was also about to give birth. Even more striking was the fact that the child's styled name had already been decided.
It was Jing Xing.
For a moment, the confidant could only think that fate was playing a cruel and inexplicable joke.
That night, Ding capital was engulfed by wind and rain. The downpour was relentless, washing over rooftops and streets alike. Rainwater diluted the blood staining the courtyard, muffled the anguished cries of women in labour, and concealed the faint, fragile sounds of newborn life.
The child who was meant to bear the name Xie Jing Xing was born still, never taking a single breath in this world.
Holding the living infant in his arms, the confidant hesitated.
It was only a brief moment—yet it was a hesitation that would define the rest of his life.
Then he made a decision he would never regret.
Thus, Xie Yuan became Xie Jing Xing.
From that moment onward, his name was Jing Xing alone. There would be no additional styled name, no second layer of identity. He became the young heir of the Residence of the Marquis of Lin An, carrying upon his small shoulders both Empress Xiao's expectations and Princess Yu Qing's hope—a hope that he would live well, live long, and live freely in this world.
Not long after that, the wealthy household originally chosen to shelter Xie Yuan was wiped out completely in a single night.
No one knew the reason behind it. Yet those who understood the currents beneath the surface were clear—Emperor Xiao Wu had discovered certain clues and moved decisively to erase them. Whether this turn of events was a blessing or a calamity could not be said. But because of the confidant's momentary hesitation, Xie Jing Xing had narrowly avoided being dragged into that life-and-death struggle.
It was as though fate itself had intervened.
Life within the residence of the Marquis of Lin An was far from peaceful. Filthy and underhanded schemes never ceased. Madam Fang and her two sons stirred trouble endlessly, their malice thinly veiled and their intentions transparent. Xie Jing Xing's only real support was Xie Ding's favour—yet even that was unreliable. Xie Ding spent most of the year away on military campaigns, rarely present in the residence.
For a child to survive among beasts, relying on such uncertain protection, was an extremely difficult matter.
Had Empress Xiao's confidant not continued to assist in secret, Xie Jing Xing would likely have long since turned to dust beneath the soil, reunited with the true heir of the Marquis of Lin An's residence. Beyond that, the Emperor of Ming Qi was also quietly suppressing the Xie family from the shadows, tightening the noose little by little.
It was within such an environment that Xie Jing Xing grew up.
Looking back, he was grateful that the confidant had placed him in such a cruel setting. It ensured that when he eventually faced the harshness of the world, he would not find it unbearable. He played the fool openly, acted reckless and irreverent, galloped his horse without discipline through the streets and alleys of Ding capital, earning countless scoldings and headaches. He appeared unruly, incorrigible, and impossible to control.
Yet just as Empress Xiao had hoped—
He grew into a man of indomitable spirit.
He never exploited another person's sincere heart. Though his demeanour was casual and laced with mockery, he held genuine respect for every true-hearted soul—Princess Rong Xin, Su Ming Feng, the Marquis of Lin An, and Shen Miao. He lived well in Ming Qi's Ding capital, relying solely on himself. And because of this, he possessed the strength and clarity to strike his enemies from the shadows, unseen and unanticipated.
Then—
What of Empress Xiao?
During those years, Empress Xiao lived with unending longing for her youngest son and profound sorrow over her eldest son's ruined fate. These two emotions—love and grief—gradually hardened into resolve. At last, she decided to fight back.
Weren't you afraid that this Empire would eventually fall into the hands of the Xiao family? Wasn't this the very thing you feared the most?
Then I will seize it from you with my own hands and grind it beneath my feet.
At that time, would you finally feel even a trace of regret for what you have done today?
Empress Xiao was born of the Xiao family. Her abilities, insight, and stratagems never fell short of any man's. Anger did not weaken her—on the contrary, it sharpened her spirit. Meanwhile, Emperor Xiao Wu had begun to age. His will scattered, his attention dissipated, indulged and diluted by the countless concubines within the Inner Palace. Once his ambitions were satisfied and his worries eased, his drive slowly withered away.
Life was born from sorrow and calamity.
Death, however, came quietly amid comfort and indulgence.
When Emperor Xiao Wu finally reached the end of his life, only Empress Xiao remained by his bedside.
She spoke calmly, her voice gentle yet chilling.
"May Bìxià rest assured. Since we are Fūqī, Chénqiè will not allow you to feel lonely on your journey to the underworld." She smiled faintly. "All the women and concubines you once favoured within this Palace—Chénqiè will send them to accompany you. As for your children, with the sole exception of the Tàizǐ, Chénqiè will not overlook a single one."
Emperor Xiao Wu's eyes flew open.
"And there is more," Empress Xiao continued, as though recalling something almost casually. She leaned closer, her voice lowered near his ear. "Our youngest son is living very well. Those people you sent to Ming Qi killed the wrong individuals."
Her smile deepened.
"In a few years, once the government has stabilised, Chénqiè will bring him back to be recognised by the ancestral tablets. After all, the Great Liang Empire still requires someone to continue governing it." She paused, then added softly, "Chénqiè's heart is tender, so the brothers will continue to bear the surname Xie. If Chénqiè's heart were as ruthless as Bìxià's, the dynasty name of Great Liang would have already been changed."
She straightened and looked down at him.
"Bìxià, walk your final journey well. Chénqiè will hold this Empire for now."
Her smile was exceedingly gentle.
Emperor Xiao Wu was unable to close his eyes at the moment of his death.
From that day onward, Empress Jing Xian became Empress Dowager Jing Xian.
Xie Chi ascended the throne and became Emperor Yong Le.
Meanwhile, Xie Jing Xing remained in Ming Qi's Ding capital, continuing to grow along a path hidden in darkness. He came, half-ignorantly and half-by force of circumstance, to learn fragments of his own origins. He was told that his birth father wished to kill him, and that his birth mother had personally orchestrated his birth father's death. At that moment, the winds of the world were at their most precarious. Any unnecessary movement could trigger irreparable consequences, and thus he could only remain still, biding his time in the shadows.
All events in the world arose from layered causes.
Just as Empress Jing Xian had once said, she truly carried out a thorough cleansing of the Inner Palace of Great Liang. All those mothers and sons who had once flaunted their power, who had schemed and struck against her and her children, were sent to accompany Emperor Xiao Wu in death. None were spared.
After everything was settled, she spoke to Xie Chi, who had now become Emperor Yong Le:
"Āi jiā's body is cold and no longer fit to manage matters beyond the Palace. However, Āi jiā can still give you a clean Inner Palace. From today onward, there will be no vile characters within it. You only need to promise Āi jiā one thing—that you will hold this Empire firmly in the palm of your hand and never allow it to collapse."
The Lu family and Ye family had once been Emperor Xiao Wu's trusted confidants. Deep-rooted and exceedingly cunning, they embodied the saying that a centipede might die, yet its body would never truly fall. Their forces were entangled too deeply to be uprooted in one stroke. Thus, Emperor Yong Le began to scheme against these two families in secret, planning patiently and waiting for the right moment.
Two years later, Empress Dowager Jing Xian passed away.
That day, as she was reading a memorandum submitted by the Lu family, her head suddenly slumped forward against the desk. She never woke again. The Gao family physicians concluded that she had died from extreme physical and mental exhaustion—her vitality completely spent.
Yet the day before, she had still spoken to Emperor Yong Le with eyes bright and clear, discussing whether the methods used for the upcoming grand ceremony should be changed. She had even casually mentioned that perhaps it was time to think of a way to allow Xie Jing Xing to return to Great Liang for a visit.
The affairs of the world were never easy to predict.
In her entire lifetime, Empress Dowager Jing Xian never had the chance to reunite with Xie Yuan again.
On that day, Heaven itself drew the final boundary—
And the living were forever separated from the dead.