Chapter 96: The True and False King

“If you say another word, I won’t mind letting you stay here and keep Gongshen Ling’er company.” Ji Wuqing glanced at him with a half-smile, a chilling gleam flashing in his deep eyes.

“How terrifying,” muttered Yue, disappearing with a flicker.

As he left, he seemed to exchange a meaningful look with Gongshen Ling’er, his gaze utterly unrestrained. What passed between them in that silent exchange, no one could say.

“You’re just letting him go?” Xuexue voiced her doubt at Ji Wuqing’s decision. That man seemed like an important figure in the Wu Kingdom, and undoubtedly powerful.

“Though I could capture him, it would waste too much time,” Ji Wuqing shook his head, his gaze falling thoughtfully on her as she leaned against his chest.

He had never imagined that Xue’er would follow him all the way to Crow Mountain, and now she was in his arms. “Xue’er, shouldn’t you explain why you’re here?” he asked gently, his eyes holding a trace of inquiry.

“I’ve already told you,” she murmured, coughing softly, feeling that her reckless dash here had been rather improper.

Fortunately, all had ended well; at least she hadn’t been a burden.

“Is that so? But I didn’t quite hear you,” the prince murmured, leaning in so his lips brushed her ear, his tone intimate.

She couldn’t help but turn her head slightly, her pale cheeks tinged with a soft blush. “Now is hardly the time for this. There’s something uncanny about this mountain; we should leave at once,” she said solemnly, her earnest expression and pink-tinged cheeks amusing Ji Wuqing greatly.

“In truth, the reason Crow Mountain has gained such a sinister reputation is merely because of the venomous insects that infest it, the unusual plants that grow here, and its peculiar location. There’s nothing truly fearsome about it,” Ji Wuqing deliberately misunderstood her meaning. “But I’ll listen to you, Xue’er.”

With that, he swept her up in his arms in a perfect, gentle embrace.

“You…” Xuexue gasped in surprise, instinctively clinging to his neck.

“Don’t be afraid. The mountain path is treacherous; let your husband carry you.” He held her securely, his strong arms wrapping her delicate form in his embrace.

The mountain was eerily quiet, broken only by the sound of their hurried steps.

No birds sang, no streams trickled—silence reigned, uncanny and absolute.

Gongshen Ling’er, guarded and escorted, followed a few paces behind, separated from Ji Wuqing by several attendants.

She watched his retreating figure, the hem of his white robe already stained by rotting leaves, every step deliberate and firm. In his arms, Xuexue seemed almost hidden from sight…

In that moment, she wondered if her heart had grown numb. She had never expected him to treat this blind girl with such deep affection, such tenderness…

“The King of Ji truly loves beauty more than his kingdom. Even if the ruler of Wu is rescued from Ji by his allies, it cannot draw your attention. In the coming conflict, Wu may well seize the advantage. If you returned to the palace now, perhaps you could still resist them. But now, having been poisoned by the venom of the Soul-Drifting Insect, if the antidote cannot be refined from the Soul-Drifting Herb, you may not only lose your consort and your soldiers, but even your own life. Why put yourself through this?” she murmured, her gaze heavy with disappointment and a faint trace of bitterness.

Ji Wuqing said nothing, but a shadow of displeasure crossed his handsome face.

Xuexue, nestled in his arms, heard Gongshen Ling’er’s words. Indeed, as she said, why must Ji Wuqing go through all this? In the eyes of others, a beauty could never compare to the splendor or importance of a kingdom.

But the kingdom was his duty, and so was she…

Yet Xuexue was deeply troubled by what Gongshen Ling’er had revealed about the poison.

She reached out to touch Ji Wuqing’s hand. No wonder she kept smelling blood—it must be coming from him.

Sensing her touch, Ji Wuqing quietly hid his hand, but the small gesture did not escape Xuexue’s notice. She gently placed her hand on his wrist, where she found traces of fresh bandages.

“Gongshen Ling’er, perhaps you’re right. But from your standpoint, isn’t this precisely what you’d hope for? Or are you feeling sorry for Ziqing?” Her hand rested lightly on his wound, her lips parting to release soft, cold words. “I don’t like other women coveting my husband. Or is it, Miss Gongshen, that you prefer married men?”

That Ziqing was willing to do so much for her was her good fortune. She did not feel guilty, nor was she burdened by it.

After all, were they not meant to walk this path together?

Ji Kingdom’s Royal Palace, Hui Retreat.

The Empress Dowager, in recent days, had no mind for vegetarian meals or prayer. Instead, she grew ever more concerned with the movements outside Hui Retreat. This day, she donned a plain robe and, accompanied by Eunuch Yun Dao, walked through the corridors toward the rarely visited rear garden.

The rear garden was tranquil. When she pushed open the door, she saw a breathtakingly handsome man seated there, idly playing with a delicate teacup.

His posture was languid, his profile flawless, long dark hair brushing his cheek, a hint of wicked charm about him.

“These past days, there has been no word that the Emperor of Wu has escaped from the palace. I advise you to leave at once, just in case,” she said coldly, her face hard, her eyes glinting with suppressed anger as she looked at the beautiful, almost feminine young man before her.

She had never wished to interfere and rescue Zuo Qiu Liyue; it was only the circumstances that forced her hand.

Zuo Qiu Liyue ignored her, smoothing his brown robe as he lounged across the bench. “Isn’t the Empress Dowager curious why the King of Ji seems utterly unconcerned?”

“What are you implying?” the Empress Dowager demanded, eyeing him warily, fearful that this cunning youth would attempt to deceive her.

“Because the one presiding over the great hall is not the King of Ji, but someone else.”

“How could that be?” The Empress Dowager was incredulous. In such troubled times, how could a sovereign neglect his duties?

“Indeed, I find it strange as well. Who would have thought the King of Ji would love beauty above his kingdom—a foolish ruler, as the world would say.” Zuo Qiu Liyue smiled, sipping his tea, the depths of his narrow eyes revealing a profound shrewdness.

“You mean he left the palace to seek an antidote for the curse afflicting the Queen?”

“If you doubt me, simply go to the study and see for yourself. Surely you can tell a true king from an impostor,” Zuo Qiu Liyue replied. “If he is false, you may have him executed on the spot and choose a new sovereign.”

Impersonating the king was a grave crime; ten thousand deaths would not atone for it. Besides, who could say if the real king was alive or dead? Perhaps the impostor had even…

The Empress Dowager hurriedly left the rear garden with Eunuch Yun Dao, while Zuo Qiu Liyue watched their retreating backs, a strange smile curling his lips.

He intended to turn the Ji Kingdom upside down, to plunge it into chaos!

“Your Majesty, this is unwise. Who knows if what the Emperor of Wu says is true? He must be stirring up trouble in secret,” Eunuch Yun Dao analyzed as he shadowed the Empress Dowager, his unease plain. The Emperor of Wu was clearly cunning and sly.

“Wise or not, I must see for myself.” The Empress Dowager had already made up her mind, and even returned to her chambers to change into imperial robes she had not worn in years.

Once she shed her plain garments, her kindly features took on a regal dignity befitting an Empress Dowager.

Her attendants, full of righteous indignation, marched to the Imperial Study. Before they could enter, the ‘Ji Wuqing’ in a dark robe emerged with his attendants, and the two parties met head-on.

“I was just on my way to Hui Retreat to visit Mother, and here you are,” ‘Ji Wuqing’ greeted her with a respectful bow and a gentle, jade-like smile—the very image of Ji Wuqing himself.

“No need for such ceremony,” the Empress Dowager said, taking his arm with maternal concern. “I hear you’ve been busy with affairs of state. I came to check on your health. It’s cold—why are you dressed so lightly?”

“Shall we return to Hui Retreat and sit awhile?” ‘Ji Wuqing’ replied warmly, shaking his head.

But the Empress Dowager fixed him with a penetrating gaze. Her eyes, once loving, now sharp as daggers.

“Speak! Who are you? What have you done with the king?” She gripped his wrist tightly, her voice ringing with accusation.

“What is Mother saying?” The man before her looked puzzled, his eyes full of confusion and inquiry. “Surely Mother jests? Who else could I be but your son?”

“Nonsense! You are not my Wuqing at all. Who are you, really?” She stared him down. “Guards! Seize this traitor who has dared deceive his sovereign! I want to see who you really are.”

Indeed, as Zuo Qiu Liyue had said, this man was not Ji Wuqing.

However, at her command, the palace guards instead rushed toward Hui Retreat, as if they had received prior orders. Something seemed to be happening there, a commotion breaking out.

“The Emperor of Wu is in Hui Retreat. I merely wished to preserve your final dignity, Mother,” ‘Ji Wuqing’ shook free of her grasp, his warm expression turning icy, the bearing of a true monarch. “But it seems you do not care for dignity at all.”

With that, he led his men toward Hui Retreat.

He did not know why the real king had spared the Empress Dowager, but it was not his place to decide her fate.

“Stop right there!” the Empress Dowager called after him, stunned for a moment before recovering her wits.

“Let me guess—it was the Emperor of Wu who persuaded you to come. He thought you’d distract me, giving him a chance to flee the palace. A clever ploy. But my aim was never to catch him; I only wished to see whether you were clever enough to see through it.”

“You’re talking nonsense!” she retorted.

This story is from...