My name is Shen Jingyao. I ascended the throne at sixteen, only to be assassinated by rebels at thirty. It was the middle of the scorching summer, with the heat inside the palace unbearable. Chen Jianguang, the rebel leader, beheaded me with a single stroke. My head was then displayed atop the city gate for thirty days, basking in the sun, as the people below erupted in cheers.
Though I am undeniably dead, I am baffled by the persistence of my consciousness. I observe my people below, their eyes fixed on my severed head mounted on the wall. Most show relief, some throw flowers and cheer, expressing joy that this tyrant is no more, freed from my cruelties. A small number of scholars gaze upon my head with sorrow in their eyes, eventually walking away with visible disappointment. There are also those with staunch determination who smash their heads against the wall in defiance, refusing to accept the change in dynasties even in death… Yet, all of this is beyond my influence now; I am merely an onlooker, powerless to act.
As my head was left to bake under the sun on the wall, I reflected on my life. In retrospect, I've done little good; the only act that might redeem me was my genuine kindness to Consort Xue Ruyu. However, she ultimately betrayed me with a cup of wine spiked with a sedative, handing me over to Chen Jian Guang… Even now, reduced to merely a head, the memory of her final smile to me still stabs at my heart with pain.
Xue Ruyu was exquisitely beautiful. I was smitten the first time I saw her while I was still a prince, so when I ascended to the throne, it was only natural that I made her my consort. I gave her nothing but the best, treating her with utmost care; her sadness brought me pain, and her laughter filled me with joy for hours. If she desired the moon, I wouldn't offer her the stars; I did all this simply because I loved her.
Under this lavish affection, though she held the title of Noble Consort in the royal harem, she acted more like an Empress than the Empress did. Her approach to matters was always skillful, and in bed, she was far more engaging than the other consorts, leaving me insatiable. Therefore, I cherished her like a precious gem, valuing her even more than my kingdom. I planned for us to be buried together when constructing my tomb, intent on being husband and wife for lifetimes.
Due to her influence, I favored her kin, pushing aside the seasoned ministers from my father's era. With her whispering in my ear, I viewed those old officials as a nuisance, particularly Prime Minister Zhuo Lun's faction. If not for my father's final wishes and the public support for Zhuo Lun and his allies, I would have indeed sought reasons to eliminate them one by one…
In my fourteen-year reign, swayed by the counsel of Xue Ruyu and her father, Xue Qing, I enforced burdensome labor and excessive taxation. As a result, public sentiment shifted against me, and under such tyranny, it was inevitable that rebellions would arise, with Chen Jianguang being one of them.
Though he was just one among many, Chen Jianguang was both cunning and strategically positioned. Outside, he rallied support with promises of lighter labor and taxation, advancing north with popular support; inside, he conspired with Xue Ruyu, keeping me in the dark. With this internal and external alliance, his forces were invincible.
When the rebels stormed the capital, I was lost in a haze of wine, food, and revelry. The urgent calls for aid from Prime Minister Zhuo Lun and the Ministry of War fell on deaf ears; I dismissed them as inconsequential, even believing it couldn't happen.
When the rebels attacked, Prime Minister Zhuo Lun took his family's personal soldiers to fight back, only to meet a grim end at the Meridian Gate. Meanwhile, Xue Ruyu and her father, Xue Qing, were celebrated as heroes of the new dynasty…
Reflecting on this, I find myself wanting to laugh, though I'm not sure why. Perhaps it's the memory of the disbelief and foolishness on my face when I first saw the rebels.
As the capital fell, the person I loved most poisoned me with a sedative, and I could only watch helplessly as Chen Jian Guang marched in with his big flag. I lacked even the strength to take my own life by sword.
Within the palace, anyone who resisted was immediately killed, the harem's concubines were seized and violated by the rebels, my children were slaughtered, and I stood by helplessly, witnessing the degradation of my concubines and the unclosed eyes of my dying children. Their gazes were filled with hatred towards me as blood spread throughout my palace. It was then that I was struck by the realization of the kind of life I had led.
Chen Jianguang was swift in executing others, but he reserved a different fate for me. He sat with the woman I cherished most on my imperial throne and began my torture with lingchi, a punishment I had once sanctioned, where one's flesh is methodically sliced away, ensuring survival for three days and nights. I endured this agony, and after those days, he mutilated my limbs, whipped me dozens of times, and only after sufficient torment did he finally grant me the release of decapitation.
I recall during my ordeal, Xue Ruyu remained seated in his embrace, her complexion pale, yet her eyes gleamed with joy. She declared that I deserved to die long ago.
Indeed, I too believe I deserved to die long ago.
While hanging on the wall these days, I've come to understand Xue Ruyu's actions towards me. It is rumored among the people that Xue Ruyu and Chen Jianguang were childhood sweethearts, but his poor family background made him undesirable to the Xue family. After I took her into the palace, making her my most beloved consort, the Xue family dismissed Chen Jianguang, causing him to harbor deep-seated resentment. Over time, this mix of old grievances and new vendettas must have fueled their plotting against me.
Given these circumstances, one could say Chen Jianguang and I were rivals in love.
After reflecting deeply, "regret comes too late" is the phrase I've been repeating to myself. Observing the common people of the capital, clad in tatters, homeless and starving, I constantly question what evil I've done. I ruled for fourteen years, and throughout that time, I did nothing beneficial, only causing suffering.
I completely disregarded my father's dying advice; I favored the corrupt and shunned the virtuous.
Karma, cause and effect - these are all my doing; the country's downfall is no exaggeration… Yet, despite admitting this, I am consumed by anger and resentment, too ashamed to face my ancestors. Maybe this fixation is why I haven't passed on to the afterlife but instead linger here as a wandering soul.
The sky looks gloomy, the air thick with humidity, dark clouds are massing on the horizon, punctuated by the occasional lightning strike; I believe rain is coming.
I recall it was my twentieth day of being displayed. The guards at the gate had grown somewhat negligent; the evening breeze was oppressively warm. Some of them, unable to bear it, grumbled, "Shit, everyone else is out enjoying themselves with women, and here we are, stuck guarding this rotting head."
"Quit your griping, or you'll regret it if someone overhears… Ah…" The man didn't get to finish; I watched as a red flash briefly illuminated his neck, followed by a thin line of a wound from which blood began to pour. He collapsed, and chaos ensued among the group.
"Assassin!" Several guards barely got the word out before they were struck down by a barrage of concealed weapons. In his dying moments, one guard managed to launch fireworks from his sleeve into the sky, alerting the entire city. The cry went up, "Assassin, capture him alive!"
Just then, I saw a figure in black, scaling the walls and rooftops with agility, cradling my head against him before leaping from the city wall to escape.
In pursuit, the city gates were thrown open, and a horde of guards rushed out after us.
The person carrying me appeared frail, his cough resounding as we moved. He had no mask to conceal his face, which was gaunt. I sensed a familiarity with him but couldn't place it, so I spent the entire journey scrutinizing him.
As lightning briefly illuminated the sky, I caught sight of the thin scar stretching from his left temple to his eyebrow, and it all came back to me. This was Zhuo Wenjing, also known as Yuqing, the firstborn of the Zhuo Lun family, designated by my father in his final moments as my male empress to secure my reign.
Upon this realization, I paused, my feelings a tangle of emotions. He's two years my senior, with a battle scar marring his forehead, yet he has always been known for his humility.
However, being the emperor, having my empress decided for me was already irksome, and with my mother's early teachings instilling a strong aversion to men, I never warmed to him. Thus, from the moment he entered the palace, I treated him poorly, and eventually, using the excuse of matters concerning children, I confined him to the cold palace for years.
Honestly, I had completely forgotten about him. Discovering now that he's here to save me was a shock. I thought my fate was to remain dismembered, never imagining that he would put his life on the line for me.
Despite his poor health, Zhuo Wenjing did his utmost to keep me close. He chose obscure paths for our escape, but the soldiers behind us were relentless. We ended up at a cliff's edge with nowhere else to go, where he finally paused to breathe. Being so near, I saw how frail he had become, almost as if a breeze could carry him off, yet through his tense, furrowed brow, traces of the handsome young man he once was were still visible.
It wasn't long before the rebels caught up, their hundreds of torches illuminating the night as if it were day.
"Who are you to dare abduct this criminal? Put him down, and I'll spare your life!" said the leader as he stepped forward, his gaze fixed on Zhuo Wenjing. This man bore the look of justice, with an aura of righteousness about him.
Without sparing the man a glance, Zhuo Wenjing only gazed vacantly at my head. After more than twenty days without grooming, my face was undoubtedly filthy and repulsive, probably looking worse than any street beggar.
With his pale, thin hand, Zhuo Wenjing began to tidy my hair, his face showing a deep, unspoken sympathy. Ignoring the throng behind him, he tenderly attended to my appearance, murmuring, "You always loved cleanliness in life; even in death, you shouldn't look this unkempt."
Just then, someone from behind attempted a sneak attack on him, but the leader intervened. He turned to Zhuo Wenjing and said, "This Xiōngtái, Shen Jingyao was a cruel emperor who wronged the loyal and virtuous, why do you feel the need to defend him?"
Zhuo Wenjing offered me a faint smile, which, despite making the long scar on his forehead appear eerie, now filled me with an unexpected warmth. I began to think that perhaps my mother's teachings were wrong.
With a gentle look, Zhuo Wenjing spoke to me, "You saved my life once, you might have forgotten, but I never did. Yet, you also caused me a lifetime of suffering. I am now repaying my debt to you, severing all ties; in our next lives, may we be strangers, and hopefully never cross paths again."
After uttering these words, he embraced me and leaped from the cliff.
As we plummeted, the wind whistled by my ears, with Zhuo Wenjing holding my head close to his chest. Even as we hit the cliff base, he gripped me tightly, as if to protect me from pain. His head struck the rocks, blood seeping out slowly; his hands went limp, and my head rolled to rest before his. With a slight smile in his eyes, a single tear traced down his face, and he closed his eyes, his expression one of peace.
His blood gradually spread across my face, causing a slight pang in my heart, as my vision turned a deep, blood-red.
I realize now how deeply mistaken I was, throughout my life, in my actions, in my choices of love, leading to surrendering my empire to others… If I could live again, I would not be so feeble, I would live up to my father's expectations, and I wouldn't allow such a pitiful end for myself and this person… I would strive to be an exemplary emperor, a devoted husband.
Just then, the skies roared with thunder. I wanted to take one last look at the person next to me, but a bolt of lightning hit me, pain seething through my bones, followed by a series of thunderbolts. After the ninth strike, I heard the soft sigh of someone whispering near my ear.
Then, I felt my head grow lighter, a warmth spreading through me, I thought, this time I'm truly going to die…
After all that, as I opened my eyes to a mind emptied of thought, only to find myself lying beneath a familiar, golden-yellow canopy, one can imagine my overwhelming shock and astonishment.
Stunned, I sat up abruptly, gazing in confusion at the scene before me, unable to discern if it was reality or illusion.
"Your Majesty, you've woken up; you've scared this concubine." Just then, the sound of sobbing reached my ears, a voice as clear and pleasing as water over stones, but one I dreaded hearing more than any other in this lifetime.