Chapter 57

No. 16, Nangu Alley

In a deep, dim dungeon, a woman with disheveled hair and a face masked in blood was bound by four thick iron chains. She shrieked in a hideous display of agony, struggling until the chains clattered incessantly, the metal biting deep, bloody welts into her wrists and ankles.

After roughly fifteen minutes, the hoarse screams subsided into low moans. The chained woman looked utterly broken, a thin trail of blood leaking from the corner of her mouth.

The dungeon door creaked open.

Prince Rong, dressed in magnificent brocade robes, appeared before her. Behind him followed a monk in green robes, his fingers methodically moving over a string of Buddhist prayer beads.

“It’s you!” The woman, tortured nearly to the point of death, glared at the newcomers with eyes full of venom, her voice a rasping disbelief.

Prince Rong stood before her, his expression a mask of stone. He reached out, his large hand clamping violently onto her jaw, his gaze freezing into shards of ice.

“Lin Minran, the taste of this poison is quite something, isn’t it? My son was tormented by it for eight long years. He nearly had to have both his legs severed. Today, I am simply returning the favor, letting you experience exactly what my son suffered.”

With that, Prince Rong retracted his hand and unhurriedly wiped it clean with a silk handkerchief.

The woman bound in chains was Lin Minran—the “deceased” fake Consort. On her distorted face, a pair of beautiful eyes burned with malice, hatred, and despair, but notably, not a shred of remorse.

Upon hearing that the poison in her system was that specific toxin, terror flooded her eyes. The chains rattled as she surged forward in a fit of madness; if she could, she would have lunged at his throat.

“Kill me! Just kill me!”

The more vicious a person is, the more they often fear death. She didn’t have the courage to bite her own tongue, yet she begged for a swift end from others.

“You want to die? This Prince will not kill you.”

“In fact, I will find people to take ‘excellent’ care of you. You will not lack for food or clothing. Your injuries and your poison will be treated by highly skilled physicians to ensure your life is prolonged. This Prince will keep you breathing like this—suffering every day, every month, a life worse than death. Five years, ten years, twenty years… only when I feel it is enough will I grant you peace!”

Prince Rong watched with a cold sneer as the woman thrashed in primal fear. The Emperor, out of respect for Old Master Lin’s “righteous sacrifice” of his kin, had ordered the Imperial Clan Court to give this woman and her “abomination” of a son a swift execution.

But why should she be allowed to escape so easily? Prince Rong could not swallow that grievance. He wanted to break her. He wanted to double the pain his son had endured and carve it into her soul. He wanted her to beg for life and crave for death, but receive neither.

He had secretly switched the Emperor’s bestowed poisoned wine for a draught that induced a state of fake death. Using the excuse of collecting the body, he had brought her here to this dungeon.

The world believed her dead, and even his son, Rong Mo, believed the same. His son shouldn’t have to shoulder such a heavy burden of hatred; let him believe the killer of his mother is gone so he can live a happy life.

“Amitabha. Madame Lin, where is my son?” Master Huiyuan spoke suddenly.

Lin Minran stared at Master Huiyuan with a twisted, manic grin. “Huiyuan, you old bald donkey! That bastard son of yours was killed by my hand twenty years ago!”

If she was to suffer, this old monk wasn’t going to have it easy either. Why should she be the only one in agony while this monk, who had broken his vows of celibacy, lived freely? She wanted to goad him into a killing rage. If he killed her, she would finally be free.

Dead… he’s dead…

Vision darkening, Master Huiyuan staggered. The thread of his prayer beads suddenly snapped, scattering the beads across the floor like rain. In an instant, he looked as though he had aged more than a decade.

“Master Huiyuan, your son may still be alive,” Prince Rong said, casting a cold look at the disbelieving, manic Lin Minran. He gave the monk a glimmer of hope. “I discovered that the nanny back then did not kill the infant boy. She abandoned him in the wilderness; it is quite possible a kind soul picked him up.”

Master Huiyuan closed his eyes, clutching at the hope Prince Rong offered. “The Prince is right. My son must still be alive.”

Lin Minran watched the monk’s self-delusion, then met the Prince’s merciless gaze. Her face turned the color of ash. What was the point of living like this? Perhaps biting her tongue was her only way out.

She suddenly found the courage to try.

But she would not get the chance. Prince Rong would not permit her even the mercy of suicide.

A man in black suddenly appeared in the cell and clamped her jaw shut. Accompanied by a shrill, muffled scream, he expertly removed her tongue, applied hemostatic powder, and began an acupuncture treatment to stabilize her.

Until the moment she lost consciousness, her eyes remained wide, filled with despair, resentment, and fury.

Prince Rong watched the scene without a hint of emotion. Finally, the shackles that had weighed on his heart for twenty years felt as though they had begun to break.

Leaving the dungeon, he looked up at the vast, azure sky. For a moment, he seemed to see a gentle, beautiful woman smiling as she walked toward him. He reached out to hold her, only to see his hand pass through her form. He gave a bitter, sorrowful smile. It was a hallucination, leaving only a stinging ache in his chest.

Minzhen… Minzhen…

He whispered the name softly, his entire being radiating a profound sorrow. Behind him, his trusted eunuch, Li Fan, sighed silently. A pair of lovers, separated forever by the hand of a wicked woman. Truly, fate is a cruel master.

By the time he returned home, the gloom had dissipated, and Prince Rong had regained his elegant, scholarly composure. Only Li Fan knew the Prince had buried the pain deep within his heart once more. Fortunately, the Heir was still alive; otherwise, the Prince might have followed his late Consort to the grave long ago.

Just then, Steward Wang Shun entered with a look of utter confusion.

“Your Highness, the eldest daughter of the Marquis of Changle has sent two crates of eggs for your health.”

Prince Rong froze for a second, then his face lit up with joy. “Quickly, bring them in!”

These were eggs sent by his future daughter-in-law! He’d heard they were exceptionally delicious; the Marquis had bragged about them several times, making him secretly envious. His son didn’t want to return to the clan just yet, and since he couldn’t force him, he had to endure that annoying Marquis constantly showing off—either about his daughter or his son-in-law. It was infuriatingly smug.

Li Fan was surprised to see the Prince so delighted. He hadn’t realized the future Consort held such weight in the Prince’s heart, though her personality seemed… a bit eccentric. Who sends two crates of eggs to a grand Prince for his health? Only Miss Cheng would do such a thing.

And yet, the Prince was thrilled. Li Fan glanced at the speechless Wang Shun and suppressed a chuckle.

Prince Rong looked at the two crates of eggs with a satisfied beam. He waved his hand grandly. “Wang Shun, tell the kitchen: tonight, I want an ‘All-Egg’ banquet!”

Wang Shun’s mouth twitched. “Yes… Your Highness!”

“Li Fan, take a century-old ginseng from my private treasury and send it over. Tell her it is a return gift from this Prince,” Prince Rong added generously. Interaction was the key to deepening a relationship.

Li Fan: “…” Sending two crates of eggs in exchange for a century-old ginseng… what a profitable trade.

“Your Highness, Lady Yirou of the North Garden is leaving today,” Wang Shun reported.

Prince Rong paused, then nodded calmly. “I see.” He glanced at Li Fan, who understood and slipped away.

~

Lady Yirou stood by the window, a faint smile on her pretty face. The task her grandmother had entrusted to her was complete. With the debt of blood paid, it was time for her to leave the Prince Rong Estate.

She hadn’t expected that for all these years, her every move had been under the Prince’s surveillance. Fortunately, her background had saved her life. Otherwise, she would have met her end with a silk noose the moment she was exposed.

Recalling the sight of the wretched, fake Consort being hauled away by officials a few days ago, Yirou felt a surge of satisfaction. That woman was finally “dead.”

However, thinking of the late Chu Ran, her smile faded, replaced by a thin veil of sorrow. She had mostly used Chu Ran, but he had loved her with all his heart. He never knew his true background; Yirou hadn’t expected the impostor to be so daring as to pollute the Imperial line. She had simply thought he was the son of her master’s enemy. In truth, Chu Ran was the most innocent of them all.

Humans are not made of wood or stone; how could she remain entirely unmoved? Upon learning Chu Ran wasn’t that woman’s biological son, she had felt a momentary relief and even a spark of joy—but before she could process her feelings, he was gone. The man who was four years younger than her was just… gone. Her heart felt hollow.

“Yirou, the luggage is packed. It’s time to go.” Nanny Luo entered, her eyes full of concern for her daughter. Though the Prince had shown mercy and allowed her to leave to marry as she pleased, Nanny Luo noticed her daughter had been dazed ever since the news of Chu Ran’s death.

“I know, Mother. Let’s go.” Yirou tucked her thoughts away and replied with a smile.

Under the complex gazes of the estate servants, the mother and daughter boarded their carriage. To their shock, a young man was already waiting inside.

“Who are you?” Yirou and Nanny Luo asked, on high alert.

“Yirou, it’s me. Chu Ran,” a familiar, clear voice spoke.

“It’s you? You’re not dead?” Yirou gasped, covering her mouth as she stared at the unfamiliar face, tears streaming uncontrollably.

Chu Ran pulled Yirou into a tight embrace right in front of Nanny Luo. “I’m not dead. The Prince showed mercy and let me leave under the guise of death. From now on, Chu Ran no longer exists. There is only Xiao Ran.”

He had expected to die, but he lived. The Prince had told him he lived because of Yirou. Since his life was given to him by her, he would spend the rest of it ensuring her happiness.

Nanny Luo’s eyes grew misty. She looked back at the driver, then at Eunuch Li Fan, who stood a short distance away smiling at her. It turned out the Prince had seen the feelings between her daughter and Chu Ran—no, Xiao Ran—all along.

As they departed, Yirou lifted the carriage curtain and watched the Prince Rong Estate fade into the distance, silently thanking the Prince for his grace.

Li Fan watched the carriage go before returning to the manor.

“Are they gone?” In the study, Prince Rong stood by the window with his hands behind his back, looking at the vibrant flowers outside.

“In response to Your Highness, Lady Yirou, Xiao Ran, and Nanny Luo have all departed.”

“Good.”

Prince Rong nodded, a hint of melancholy in his heart. They were finally gone. Back then, old Nanny Luo had risked everything to save his son, and for the sake of Minzhen’s revenge, she had even sent her own granddaughter into the lion’s den. Such loyalty was moving.

Today, he had simply given her granddaughter a husband in return.

Sansukini: Happy ending for Chu Ran and Yirou. ♡ ´･ᴗ･ `♡

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