Chapter 35: Xia Jingshi's Dark Past

                                                            

The lotus pond lay dotted with pink and pale yellow blossoms, creating a scene of ethereal beauty against vermillion walls and jade-green waters. The essence of summer hung thick and languid in the air, almost visible in the shimmering heat.

Xia Jingshi stood motionless by the pond's edge, hands clasped behind his back, eyes half-closed in meditation. His expression remained unnaturally calm and solemn—that careful mask he'd perfected over years. For days now, he had maintained this silence, preserving his former composure in every measured movement.

Yet when alone, truly alone, he grew increasingly prone to falling into deep reverie. Just as he was now—lost in memories he could neither escape nor fully embrace.

In his mind's eye, there existed a cool palace surrounded by impossibly lush trees and gardens overflowing with flowers. During the brutal summer months, his Imperial Mother would often take him to that sanctuary for meals, seeking respite from the capital's oppressive heat.

To the east of the cool palace stretched the vast Ningbi Pool, its crystalline waters extending as far as sight could reach. Three meticulously crafted artificial islands rose from those depths, designed to resemble the mythical mountains of Penglai, Fangzhang, and Yingzhou—the legendary homes of immortals. Along the shore, over a hundred pavilions and towers gleamed with gold leaf and jade inlay, breathtakingly beautiful architecture encircling the magnificent Mingde Palace where his Imperial Mother resided, arranged like celestial stars orbiting the moon itself.

Everything possessed a dreamlike quality of impossible opulence—too perfect to be real, yet undeniably so.

Many summers ago, the Emperor and Imperial Mother would frequently take a pleasure boat to admire the lotus flowers blooming across Ningbi Pool's surface. The Emperor had been pale and extraordinarily handsome, while the Imperial Mother possessed delicate beauty with perfectly arched moth-like eyebrows. Her every smile seemed to radiate light itself.

And by his side during those golden days, there had always been a charming companion with the sweetest smile imaginable.

It was a name etched into his very soul with burning iron—Rao Ran.

When his original study companion, the dutiful Maid Li Ze, had suddenly fallen gravely ill with mysterious symptoms, Rao Ran had emerged seemingly from nowhere among the palace servants to assume her position, standing demurely behind him during lessons.

Love, he'd learned too late, is like an elaborate trap cunningly covered with grass and flowers. When you're attracted by its deceptive beauty and reach out with innocent hands to pick what seems a gift, you suddenly plummet into the pre-set snare, left struggling in unimaginable pain with no escape...

The young and tender-hearted Xia Jingshi, still naive to the world's cruelties, couldn't begin to resist Rao Ran's deliberately displayed charms. Their love had ignited fiercely from the very start, burning with intensity he'd never known possible.

He still remembered with crystalline clarity that pivotal moment when Rao Ran had embraced him, her unique scent intoxicatingly sweet and warm. Her hands had been like contrasts of coal and ice as they slid over his trembling body—confident, knowing, sliding over skin that had never been touched so intimately before.

Then suddenly, the calculated allure on her beautiful face had shifted to an expression of genuine surprise. He'd heard Rao Ran ask softly, her voice carrying an odd note, "Your Highness... don't you want Rao Ran?"

He'd been utterly stunned, gradually breaking out in fine perspiration, frozen in place as he watched her surprise transform to dawning realization, then morph into something far more disturbing—a mysterious smile that held secrets and calculations he couldn't begin to comprehend.

Then, without explanation, she had pushed him away decisively and left the chamber.

Outside, thunder and lightning raged with apocalyptic fury. Xia Jingshi had drunk alone in his room, throat burning with disappointment and confusion, each cup of wine failing to drown the questions. Before consciousness finally abandoned him, he'd vaguely called out in desperate hope, "Rao Ran..."

He'd jolted awake at noon the following day, head pounding. Light rain was falling outside, pattering softly against the windows. He struggled to his unsteady feet, desperately wanting to pour water to soothe his parched throat, but found none prepared.

Only then did fragmented memory return—he'd ordered everyone to stay away from his courtyard for several days, craving isolation in his misery.

Xia Jingshi slowly walked to the window on legs that felt disconnected from his body. He poked his head out into the rain, opened his mouth, and let the slightly sweet raindrops fall directly onto his bitter tongue, washing away the taste of wine and despair.

Tears suddenly flowed without warning, beyond his control, mingling freely with the rain as they trickled down his neck in cold rivulets.

Suddenly, a figure materialized before him through the curtain of rain. Through the damp air, this silhouette appeared more dazzling than sunlight itself—so bright it hurt to perceive. So this was the ominous premonition he'd first sensed days ago, finally manifesting. How ominous indeed—

"By order of the Imperial Consort, Prince Xia Jingshi is summoned for immediate audience."

The words struck like a death knell.

He remembered following two stone-faced palace attendants through the labyrinthine winding paths of the deep palace, past gardens with swaying flowers and ancient trees, through lofty halls that seemed to stretch endlessly. Their footsteps sounded deliberately light and secretive, like conspirators moving through shadows.

His heart pounded violently against his ribs, and his eyes could barely process this solemn and splendid imperial home that had once felt familiar, now transformed into something alien and threatening.

---

The Imperial Consort's private bedchamber blazed as bright as midday despite the hour. Palace lamps and silver candles created an almost blinding radiance. Among this sea of artificial light, a woman reclined languidly on the ornate phoenix couch, the very picture of leisured power.

The Imperial Consort was having tea with deliberate slowness. A strange, clear fragrance wafted from the small porcelain cup cradled in her elegant hands—something medicinal, perhaps, or alchemical. She seemed entirely oblivious to the attendant's formal announcement of his arrival, nor did she deign to glance at Xia Jingshi, who knelt properly and requested audience with all appropriate ceremony.

"Do you know why I summoned you to the palace?"

After an eternity of calculated silence, the Imperial Consort finally set down her precious cup and turned to scrutinize Xia Jingshi with eyes that seemed to pierce through flesh to examine bone. He could only shake his head mutely in response, but he registered the palace attendants gradually withdrawing from the hall like ghosts, leaving them in dangerous privacy.

"Stand up. I want you to meet someone," the Imperial Consort commanded. Her previously languid eyes suddenly shot out light so scorching it could ignite paper.

A familiar pattern of footsteps sounded behind him—light, graceful, unmistakable.

He didn't want to turn around, couldn't bear to, silently praying with desperate intensity: Please don't let it be her, anyone but her, please gods have mercy—

But the gods were not merciful that day.

"This humble servant Rao Ran pays respects to the Imperial Consort and His Highness the Prince."

That beloved voice, now edged with something cold and formal, shattered the last fragments of his hope.

"How are you here?" he asked, confusion and hope still warring in his voice. "I haven't seen you for the past few days. I thought something terrible had happened to you. I was worried—"

"Rao Ran, rise and speak freely," the Imperial Consort commanded, already beginning to laugh with evident amusement at some private joke.

Rao Ran's expression remained perfectly composed, smiling with that familiar shy timidity as she gracefully rose to her feet.

But now, that smile pierced Xia Jingshi's eyes like an awl driven deep into soft flesh.

To him, Rao Ran had been like the most beautiful and passionate dream imaginable. Yet no matter how beautiful any dream might be, how perfect its illusions, one must inevitably wake to harsh reality.

"Was your love for me all a lie?" His face had gone still as dead water, lips drained completely of color. "Everything between us—was any of it real?"

"Love?" Rao Ran covered her mouth delicately and actually laughed—the sound like breaking glass. "This is truly the biggest joke told in at least the last few hundred years since the ancient profession of prostitution first began. The Prince speaks of love?"

Prostitute.

The word hit him like a physical blow.

His gaze fell away into empty space, and he couldn't suppress the cold, bitter laugh that escaped. "It's a profound pity you became a whore. You should have been an actress instead—your talents are clearly wasted."

Rao Ran smiled even more sweetly, as if complimented. "Rao Ran was naturally first an actress before becoming a whore—how else could I have presented such a convincingly passionate performance before the Prince? Making you fall so completely for me, believing every word, every touch, ultimately allowing me to withdraw completely unscathed when my purpose was served?"

"I was wholeheartedly devoted to you! I would have given you anything!" He finally couldn't maintain composure, his temper breaking through like flood waters. "Why did you deceive me so cruelly?!"

"Hasn't the Prince heard the old saying?" Rao Ran's voice remained infuriatingly calm, almost lecturing. "Whores have no genuine feelings, actors possess no true loyalty—did the Prince actually believe in vows of eternal love whispered by a brothel girl?" She giggled coquettishly, the sound scraping against his nerves. "That's merely an act performed in a play, Your Highness. In this ruthless world, the most enduring emotion is no emotion at all. Feeling nothing means you can never be hurt."

Her words cut like the sharpest knives, precise and devastating.

"It was I who carefully arranged for her to 'serve' you in Li Ze's place," the Imperial Consort suddenly interjected, laughing with obvious satisfaction. "I had originally planned to put her unique skills to use much later in my schemes, but I never expected—it turned out like this. How delightfully perfect."

Her laughter grew louder, more mocking. "Xia Jingshi, you are destined to remain only a nobleman—nothing more, nothing higher. You are destined never to inherit the throne. The heavens themselves have declared it so. Hahaha!"

Xia Jingshi's jaw clenched so tightly his teeth made audible grinding sounds. Cold sweat poured down into his eyes in stinging rivulets, but the burning sensation didn't make him close them or flinch. In his unfocused pupils, there remained no more pain—only bewilderment. Hollow, bottomless bewilderment at how the world had become this.

The Imperial Consort slowly sat upright, rearranging her elaborate robes. Rao Ran obediently stepped forward to adjust the silk pillows supporting her mistress, then began gently massaging her shoulders with practiced familiarity.

"I'll graciously give you two choices, Prince Xia Jingshi." The Imperial Consort's voice took on a businesslike tone. "First option: you can voluntarily and publicly withdraw from the competition for the heir apparent position. If you do this without resistance, I promise to keep your... condition... secret forever. Your shame remains buried."

She paused deliberately, letting that sink in before continuing.

"Second option: hehe, I will immediately summon the Imperial Physicians for a formal consultation and examination. I'll have them document their findings thoroughly and make all results public before the entire court. Everything will be left for the Holy Emperor and all court officials to debate and decide. Your fate will rest in their hands, not mine."

Her smile was poisonous sweetness itself. "What do you say, Prince Xia Jingshi? Which future do you choose?"

Xia Jingshi lowered his gaze to the floor and answered with devastating calmness, his voice empty of all emotion. "I'll withdraw."

"Hahaha! I didn't expect this!" The Imperial Consort erupted in triumphant laughter. "How utterly pitiful you are! Xia Jingshi, I vastly overestimated you—you're nothing but a pathetic wretch after all!!!"

Rao Ran joined in the mockery, her giggles high and sharp.

Xia Jingshi stood motionless, woodenly watching the two women laughing together at his expense.

No—they weren't women at all. They were venomous serpents, their fangs embedded deeply in his heart where they would remain forever, pumping poison with every heartbeat, never to be extracted.

Finally finished with their cruel entertainment, the Imperial Consort slowly rose from the couch, dragging her long embroidered skirt as she glided to his side. Her phoenix eyes, still brimming with tears from excessive laughter, glanced at him with something approaching pity—though far more vicious.

"It's time for me to fulfill my promise of secrecy," she announced, gesturing for Rao Ran to approach. "Tell me, dear girl—would you like to spend the rest of your natural life with him? As his woman? His wife, perhaps?"

Rao Ran chuckled lightly, not even considering the offer. "The Imperial Consort jests cruelly. If Rao Ran were to return with the Prince to his residence, she would surely be flayed alive the moment he regained his senses and composure. No man forgives such deception."

The Imperial Consort nodded thoughtfully, almost approvingly. "You make an excellent point. You're far too clever to waste. Then—"

The smile in her phoenix eyes suddenly transformed to something else entirely—cold, murderous intent that chilled the very air.

Before Rao Ran could even begin to react or process the shift, a sharp dagger had slid from the Imperial Consort's wide sleeve like a striking snake and plunged with brutal efficiency deep into her abdomen.

"Then you shall not live at all!"

Rao Ran's mouth hung half-open in shock, her throat making wet gurgling sounds. Her eyes bulged grotesquely, staring at the Imperial Consort in complete disbelief. Both hands instinctively grabbed at the Imperial Consort's wrist, desperately trying to extract the dagger from her body—but with just a slight, almost casual twist of the hand holding the blade, she was suddenly in too much agony to exert any strength whatsoever.

"Save..." Her plaintive eyes turned desperately to the stunned Xia Jingshi, one hand reaching out toward him, already covered in spreading crimson. "Save me... please... I'm begging you..."

Xia Jingshi instinctively stepped forward to support her collapsing form, old reflexes of care still operating despite everything.

"What?" The Imperial Consort's voice was sharp as a whip crack. Her phoenix eyes filled with a cold, knowing smile, but her hand maintained its merciless grip on the dagger's handle. "Do you genuinely want her to take this delicious secret out of the palace, back to that establishment of courtesans to use as drinking gossip for all the world to hear? For every drunk patron to laugh about?"

His forward movement froze instantly, muscles locking.

"For being so obedient and choosing wisely, I'll teach you one final lesson—" The Imperial Consort leaned close, her breath warm against his ear. "Love is simultaneously a fetter and a shackle. In this life, once you've felt true love or deep affection for another, you've already developed a fatal weakness. An opening for enemies to exploit. So you see, you are no longer perfect, no longer invulnerable."

She smiled, eyes devoid of any warmth or humanity. "You are indeed excellent in so many ways, Prince Xia Jingshi. Superior to most. But it's a profound pity you were born to the wrong mother. If you were my own son instead..." She sighed almost wistfully. "The throne would undoubtedly, inevitably be yours."

In Xia Jingshi's increasingly dazed gaze, the Imperial Consort gracefully stepped backward, withdrawing the blade with practiced ease.

Rao Ran's body immediately crumpled to the ground like a puppet with severed strings. She twitched violently, then began struggling to crawl toward the hall's distant door with weakening determination, leaving a thick, obscene trail of crimson behind her dying form.

The Imperial Consort watched this pitiful display with obvious amusement, a playful smile dancing on her lips as she slowly followed Rao Ran's agonizing progress step by step toward the door. Her voice emerged soft, almost encouraging: "Almost there, my dear. Just a bit further. If you can somehow crawl all the way out of this chamber, I might consider sparing your life after all..."

The words were obvious lies—cruel games to prolong suffering.

Suddenly, Xia Jingshi strode forward with decision, reaching out toward the Imperial Consort. "Give it to me."

The Imperial Consort glanced at him with slight surprise—perhaps even respect—but still obediently handed the blood-soaked dagger to him without hesitation or question.

Xia Jingshi slowly crouched down beside Rao Ran's struggling form and spoke softly, almost tenderly, "Close your eyes. Don't look. It will be over quickly."

The thin blade slid across Rao Ran's exposed neck in one smooth, practiced motion.

A torrent of blood erupted from the gaping wound, spurting upward before raining down. Her body convulsed once, twice, then gradually ceased all movement entirely.

On the finely polished bluestone floor, the meandering river of crimson stopped precisely twenty paces from the hall door she'd nearly reached. So close to escape. So impossibly far.

A single drop of blood fell from the slightly trembling dagger still clutched in Xia Jingshi's hand, landing with a soft sound that echoed like thunder in the sudden silence.

He stared at that drop as if it contained the answer to every question he'd never asked.

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