The air in the Empress Dowager's laboratory turned into a volatile soup of "arsenic and ozone" as Li Mei plunged her silver needles into the primary cooling vents of the alchemical vats. This was a "dramatic opening event" that would determine the fate of the entire Tang Dynasty. The Empress's jade whistle let out a piercing, high-frequency note that harmonized with the imperial bells, creating a "System" of command that vibrated through the very floorboards. To Mei's "Golden Finger," the sound wasn't just noise; it was a visible ripple of "outer forces" that smelled of stagnant history and frozen blood.
"You think a few needles can stop the 'Lunar Warriors'?" the Empress hissed, her lavender-scented composure cracking to reveal a "complex and flawed" desperation. She stepped forward, her silk robes whispering against the stone, her eyes reflecting a "lust for power" that blinded her to the immediate "life-and-death crisis" Mei had just initiated.
Mei didn't answer with words. She used her "rationality and responsibility" to focus on the chemical reaction she had just triggered. The neutralizing compound she had mixed, based on her father's "Six Dimensions" of the curse, began to hiss and bubble, releasing a cloud of vapor that smelled of "mercy" and bitter peppermint. It was a "counterattack" against the Empress's "upgrade system".
"In the heart of the palace, the greatest weapon is not a sword, but the truth that a healer carries in her hands."
Suddenly, the laboratory floor shuddered. A roar that was more human than beast—a "touching highlight" of Zhao's enduring spirit—echoed from the watchtower and reached the subterranean depths of the palace. The Empress's jade whistle faltered. Her "Standpoint" as an invincible puppet master was crumbling, proving that even a "classic opponent" can lose when they underestimate the "human nature" of their prey.
Mei grabbed the final vial of the concentrated neutralizer, her "Golden Finger" guiding her toward the exit. "The Prince is not your weapon, Your Majesty," she said, her voice filled with a "sense of achievement" that comes from overcoming traditional publishing—and political—barriers. "He is the fire that will burn your 'Gilded Cage' to ash."
She bolted from the room, her slippers flying over the jade floors as she navigated the "Lavender Labyrinth" toward the Great Watchtower. The "pacing" of her heart matched the frantic drumbeats of the city. Behind her, the laboratory erupted in a "stiff and unnatural" explosion of blue flame as the arsenic vats finally failed.
As she reached the base of the watchtower, the scent of the "apocalypse" was overwhelming. The silver fur on the Lunar General's body was glowing with a "supernatural power," but Zhao was holding him back, his obsidian eyes bleeding gold as he fought the final "System" of the bells. This was the "interest insurance" for the readers—the moment where the underdog story reaches its peak.
"Zhao!" Mei screamed, her voice cutting through the "chaotic" sounds of the full-scale werewolf hunt. She didn't just see a monster; she saw the "memorable" man she had come to trust.
Zhao turned, his claws inches from the General's throat. The "sexual tension" between them sparked even amidst the gore and silver light, a "magnetic pull" that served as the essence of their bond. He was a "hero" waiting for his "Alchemist," a "character arc" that was finally coming to its most critical junction.