Chapter 276
**Chapter 274: The Collapse of the Mansion**
No one expected that Li Chengzhen would suddenly rush into the sea of flames. Everyone around was stunned, but Shen Wei quickly reacted, shouting, “Quick! Save him!”
Boom!
The burning beams cracked, blocking the path of the palace guards trying to extinguish the fire. The searing flames surged forward, instantly turning strands of hair to ash.
The Empress screamed, “Chengzhen! Someone, hurry! Put out the fire!”
She was nearly driven mad, wanting to leap into the inferno, but the charred beams at the palace entrance held her back.
The Empress threw herself against the scalding beam, her skin instantly stinging, the acrid smell of burnt flesh wafting through the air.
“Chengzhen!”
“Brother!”
Chaos erupted around them as the palace guards hurriedly fetched water. The Empress collapsed to the ground, as if aging ten years in an instant. She stared blankly at the raging fire, slowly realizing that her only hope had been extinguished.
She would never have her son again.
The Empress turned her head slowly, her bloodshot eyes fixated on Shen Wei not far away. Suddenly, she sprang to her feet in a fit of rage, lunging at Shen Wei, her voice shrill and piercing, “It’s all your fault! You wretched woman have killed my son! Go die with him! Why don’t you just perish?”
The guards swiftly intercepted the frenzied Empress.
By the early hours of the morning, the fire was finally extinguished. A eunuch found Li Chengzhen among the charred ruins, lifeless and curled up, his body blackened, clutching two charred fishing rods tightly in his arms.
The Empress fainted on the spot.
Shen Wei worked tirelessly through the night without rest. She sent someone to escort the terrified Empress Dowager back to Cining Palace; arranged for the charred palace to be cleared and the Second Prince’s body to be properly laid to rest; dispatched someone to inform Li Yuanjing, who was far away at the royal estate; and worked to contain the spread of negative rumors.
There’s no wall that doesn’t let the wind through. The next day, news of the Second Prince’s suicide in the flames spread quickly.
The entire court was aware.
...
At the Dantai residence, dawn broke, and the servants began sweeping the courtyard with clean water.
After finishing her breakfast, Old Madam Dantai felt a heaviness in her stomach. Leaning on her cane, supported by two maidservants, she strolled slowly in the courtyard to aid her digestion.
“Take it slow, Old Madam. Watch your step,” one maid gently reminded her.
Standing on the marble steps, Old Madam Dantai gazed at the withered flowers and grass in the courtyard, asking the maid, “When will the Master return?”
The maid replied, “Not until the afternoon.”
Old Madam Dantai’s heart was heavy. The Dantai family had been in turmoil lately, with several distant relatives impeached for corruption, and their profitable ventures gradually cut off by the court. The entire family was on shaky ground.
With autumn approaching, the greenery in the courtyard diminished sharply. Old Madam Dantai looked at the yellowing leaves of the parasol tree and furrowed her brow.
This year, the parasol tree seemed to wither earlier than usual.
An ominous sign.
Old Madam Dantai instructed the maid, “The weather is turning cool. Gather my fox fur blankets and prepare two jars of autumn pear syrup to send to the Empress tomorrow. This child is afraid of the cold, and being trapped in Kun Ning Palace, she must be suffering.”
After all, the Empress was Old Madam Dantai’s most beloved daughter.
Even though the Empress had made many mistakes, as a mother, Old Madam Dantai still worried deeply for her daughter.
For this unworthy child, Old Madam Dantai’s hair had turned nearly all white, and her figure had become stooped.
The maid went inside to gather the fox fur blankets.
Just as Old Madam Dantai was about to descend the stone steps, a young servant rushed into the courtyard, calling out anxiously, “Old Madam, it’s terrible! The Second Prince has died!”
Old Madam Dantai’s cane slipped from her grasp, and she lost her balance, tumbling down the steps like a fallen leaf.
The un-swept leaves from the parasol tree fluttered up, swirling down to cover Old Madam Dantai.
...
Seven days later.
The sky was overcast, and Kun Ning Palace was shrouded in silence.
The Empress sat dazed in the Buddhist hall. Since that night Li Chengzhen died, she hadn’t changed her clothes, and in the summer heat, her garments had taken on a strong, sour odor.
She had hardly slept, drifting in and out of consciousness, kneeling in the hall, sobbing uncontrollably until she fainted on the floor.
The serving maid, filled with pity, draped a thin blanket over the Empress and left simple meals at the entrance of the hall, choosing not to disturb her further.
“Has Chengzhen been buried?” the Empress asked hoarsely, still kneeling on the mat.
The maid replied, “He has been taken to the royal tomb.”
The Empress lowered her eyes, her gaze vacant and weary, dark circles under her eyes.
Clutching the Buddhist beads, a hint of sarcasm crossed her lips, “The Emperor is truly heartless; he shows no sorrow for the death of a son... I should have dealt with those illegitimate sons back when I was in the Wang residence.”
Her biological son had passed away, yet Li Yuanjing had not set foot in Kun Ning Palace, continuing to attend court daily, showing no sign of grief.
The Empress’s heart turned to ice.
In this harem, there was no warmth; power always overshadowed familial bonds.
The maid remained silent.
In the days that followed, the Empress had cried, mourned, and despaired, until finally, her heart had grown numb.
She lifted her head to gaze at the white jade statue of the Bodhisattva on the offering table. The Bodhisattva remained compassionate, having consumed countless incense offerings, yet still showed no mercy to this wretched soul.
“Bring me paper and a pen. I need to write to my family; my mother will find a way for me,” the Empress spoke slowly.
Throughout her life, whenever faced with difficulties, the Empress always turned to Old Madam Dantai for help. Her mother was her greatest support, always able to pull her from the mire.
The maid lowered her head and softly said, “Your Highness, the Dantai family has been very busy lately; they may not have time to respond to your letter.”
The Empress tightened her grip on the Buddhist beads, tilting her head, “Why?”
The maid bit her lip, hesitating before finally whispering the news from the Dantai family: “The news of the Second Prince’s death reached the Dantai family. Old Madam Dantai was so shocked that she fell down the steps... and passed away on the spot.”
The Empress’s lips parted slightly, her eyes slowly shifting as she heard her own hoarse voice emerge, “Who passed away?”
The maid continued, “The Dantai family is busy preparing for Old Madam Dantai’s funeral. She will be buried in a couple of days. I’m afraid they won’t have time to reply to Your Highness’s letter.”
The Empress’s head buzzed, her mind going blank. She opened her mouth, grief and shock crashing over her like a tidal wave.
Her eyes burned with pain, tears streaming down, mingled with blood.
She seized the porcelain vase from the offering table and hurled it at the maid’s forehead with all her might, “Why are you only telling me this now! Someone, I need to see the Emperor! I must return to the Dantai family!”
Crash—
The vase struck the maid’s head, blood trickling down her forehead.
The Empress, in a frenzy, tried to rush out of Kun Ning Palace, but the guards at the entrance drew their swords, stating that she was still under house arrest and could not leave. The Empress paid no heed, desperately trying to break free, but the heavy doors of Kun Ning Palace slammed shut, leaving her weakly pounding on the door.
“Let me out!”
“I... I need to attend my mother’s funeral…”
“Mother…”
“Shen, you wretched woman, it’s all your fault!”
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