Chapter 98: Flames of Duty

                             

Xia Jingshi could never beg for mercy—simply because he was Xia Jingshi.

He lifted the corners of his lips in a faint smile, his jaw clenched tight. Perhaps this unwavering resolve was exactly what the Holy Emperor wanted to see. If he could not force him to yield, then he would simply force him toward death.

The Holy Emperor’s smile curled with sinister delight as he slowly guided the blood-soaked iron needle toward Xia Jingshi’s other shoulder. His wrist flicked lightly, and a bead of blood slid down, blooming into crimson on Xia Jingshi’s plain robe. “Well then… let’s play once more.”

Night had sunk fully over the camp. Surrounded by ringed wagons, Yi Xiao sat by the bonfire with her knees drawn close, staring at the flames as if they could offer answers. Feng Suige stepped out of the tent, paused for a long moment as he looked at her small, lonely back, and sighed. Approaching quietly, he murmured, “Go back inside and rest. Worrying won’t change what has already happened. Better to save your strength for what comes next.”

Yi Xiao turned at the sound of his voice, giving him a dull glance. “So you know exactly what I’m thinking again?”
“What is it, then?” Feng Suige teased with a sly smile as he sat down beside her. “Tell me—do you even know what you’re talking about?”

Resting her head against his shoulder, Yi Xiao let the teasing drop and closed her eyes. “I’m exhausted… I’m worried about His Highness, about Ning Fei, Wei Ran, Xue Ying… and even about you and me.”
“Silly girl,” Feng Suige lightly scolded, “It’s one thing to worry about them, but why worry about us?”

“I don’t know,” Yi Xiao said, her voice heavy. “Maybe this whole ordeal has shaken me more than I thought. I still can’t understand why His Highness, who has given his entire life to the country, is now accused of treason by His Majesty, who wants to destroy him. Is being born into the royal family truly such a painful thing?”

“I wish I could tell you it isn’t,” Feng Suige sighed. “But if I said that, it would be a lie. You might not want to hear this, but I was once caught in that same whirlpool. And fortunately…” His gaze drifted to the flames, shadowed with pain. “I was the one who survived.”

“I’ve never told you about my Imperial Consort Mother, have I? She was one of its victims…”

“What!” Yi Xiao sat upright, horrified. “You even… to your mother?”
“Stop—stop that wild imagination!” Feng Suige nearly snapped. “My Imperial Consort Mother was murdered by someone else.”
Yi Xiao shrank back, lips pouting. “Well… you didn’t explain it clearly.”

Feng Suige shot her a look, then continued, “It was a scorching day. I was playing in the garden with Xi Yang and other princes. A palace servant brought me iced lily-and-lotus-seed soup, but I was too busy playing, so I told him to leave it in the pavilion.”

“A while later, my Imperial Consort Mother woke from her nap and came to look for me. Seeing us playing happily, she sat in the pavilion to watch. She noticed the soup, picked it up, and drank a few sips. I remember her wiping her mouth with her silk handkerchief, telling the maid that it was still bitter no matter how much sugar had been added—probably some lotus cores hadn’t been cleaned properly. Then she told the maid to throw it out and have the kitchen prepare a new bowl…”

His voice tightened with a grief carved into bone. Yi Xiao leaned closer, slipping her arms around his, wordlessly offering comfort.

“No one expected that moments later, she would clutch her abdomen in agony and collapse on the spot. My Royal Father summoned every imperial physician and kept them working day and night, but nothing could change the outcome.” Feng Suige hurled the snapped twigs in his hands into the fire. “The problem was in the soup. The palace servant who brought it had already killed himself out of fear. The soup was gone, poured away. The porcelain bowl was already washed clean and returned to the kitchen. In the end, the case was left unsolved.”

“On the day of her funeral, my Royal Father called me to him and told me: only by becoming strong could I protect those I loved.” The firelight danced in Feng Suige’s eyes, making them seem almost aflame. “At that time, I didn’t know what love truly meant. But I understood one thing: if I didn’t kill others, others would kill me. My Imperial Consort Mother died in my place. If I couldn’t avenge her, I wouldn’t even deserve to be human.”

“I spent four years gathering royal relatives and nobles, making promises, offering benefits. When my brothers tried to harm me again, I struck by cutting off their support. By the time the dust finally settled, six years had passed.” Feng Suige turned to Yi Xiao with a faint smile. “Some of those brothers died. Some were demoted. The luckiest were exiled. And the one sitting as Regent Prince today… is me.”

Yi Xiao exhaled a long breath, smiling bitterly. “So all royal families are the same… I never told you this, but the farther I get from Xi Sha, the less I want to return. Yet I don’t want to go to Jin Xiu either. Sometimes I think… how wonderful it would be if we could just keep traveling like this forever. No daggers in the dark, no false accusations. Going wherever we want to go, stopping whenever we feel tired… But I know I can’t be that selfish. You still have your responsibilities.”

“I know,” Feng Suige said, tossing in another branch. “But if you give me time, anything can be solved.”

“Then… what about Marquis Jian Xin’s sisters…” Yi Xiao muttered, embarrassed yet unable to avoid the topic.

“Don’t worry too much. She already has someone she loves. Before we left, Marquis Jian Xin promised he would try to delay my Royal Father and mediate,” Feng Suige said helplessly. “I don’t know how things are going now, but you must believe me— even if I end up marrying someone else, the one I love most will always be you.”

“The one you love most?” Yi Xiao let out a cold laugh and shoved him hard. “Right, and then there are the slightly loved ones, the barely loved ones, the not really loved ones, the least loved ones, and the never loved ones—until your whole harem is colorful and harmonious. Is that your dream?”

“Yi Xiao, be reasonable,” Feng Suige caught her flailing hands. “Think about it—what emperor in history didn’t have three palaces and six courts? It’s not just for heirs. It’s to balance noble families, build alliances, win over capable ministers—”

“I didn’t know you were so capable,” Yi Xiao snapped, yanking her hands free as she stood. “Why not say that if you fill all three palaces, six courts, and seventy-two consorts, Xi Sha will enjoy peace and abundant harvests? Let me tell you—compared to all your talk of heirs and political balance, I care far more about a small cottage, a few kind neighbors, and grandchildren at my knees. All these so-called traditions—just excuses for you shameless men!”

Feng Suige burst out laughing. “Ah… I smell jealousy.”

Yi Xiao glared, spun around, and stalked off. Feng Suige leapt up and ran after her. “Hey—angry again? I promise, all right? As long as you don’t agree— What, a promise isn’t enough? Then what do you want me to do?”

Yi Xiao suddenly stopped, turned sharply, and stood with her hands on her hips. Feng Suige almost slammed into her and had to sidestep quickly, eyes wary.

Her lips curled into a triumphant smile. “How about this—you find one, and I find one. That way, neither of us loses out. How does that sound?”

“You wouldn’t dare!” Feng Suige’s roar shook the entire camp. “If anyone dares touch even a single hair on your head, I’ll cut them into pieces!!”

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