It was not until dusk that day, when I jolted awake from a bout of heart-palpitating unease, that I heard a distant yet distinct, heavy toll of bells from outside the window.
One strike, then another, then another… nine times in total.
A state funeral? No—the tone was wrong. This was… the ceremonial bells marking the beginning of an enthronement rite.
Immediately after came the vague yet overwhelming roar of voices surging like a tide, crying "Long live the Emperor," carried across considered layers of courtyard walls and streets. Blurred but immense, it rolled across the heavens like muffled thunder.
I struggled to rise, but Aunt Qin gently pressed me back down.
"Lie still, Young Master." Her voice carried a calm as if the dust had finally settled. "It is the enthronement ceremony. The Third Imperial Princess, Xiao Yuhuang—today, she formally ascends the throne as Emperor."
She had, in the end… still reached that step. Treading upon the doubtful grave of her mother-emperor, upon the corpses and blood of her sisters, upon countless souls dragged down and sacrificed along the way.
The bells continued to ring, and the cries of "Long live the Emperor" seemed endless. Amid these grand sounds symbolizing supreme glory and the dawn of a new reign, all I felt was bone-deep cold.
Aunt Qin brought the medicine and watched as I drank it. Then she suddenly said in a low voice, "The Eighth Highness's residence… is now under heavy guard. As for the Eldest Highness… she passed away early this morning."
My fingers trembled, and the medicine bowl nearly slipped from my grasp.
"By His Majesty's decree, the Eldest Highness succumbed to her grievous wounds, having sacrificed herself for the state. She is to be buried with full princely rites, with the posthumous title 'Ai.' The Eighth Highness, having suffered 'excessive grief and damage to her spirit,' is to recuperate quietly within her residence and is not to leave without imperial permission."
What a fine "excessive grief and damage to her spirit"! What a fine "lavish burial"!
All obstacles had, on this very day, been completely swept away—by the most "legitimate" and most "benevolent" means.
"The Su family… what about us…" I heard myself ask, my voice barely more than a thread.
Aunt Qin fell silent for a moment, then tucked the blanket around me. "His Majesty has offered much consolation to Chancellor Su. A clear edict restoring Commander Su to his former post has already been issued together with the enthronement proclamation. As for you, Young Master…" She paused. "His Majesty has conveyed a verbal decree: in consideration of your incomplete recovery, you are specially permitted to recuperate within the residence. Once all matters of the grand ceremony are concluded, further imperial favor will be bestowed."
Imperial favor… what kind of favor?
Something like what was given to Eldest Sister—a position or reward that appeared honorable, only to bind the Su family completely to her war chariot? Or…
I dared not think further. Exhaustion and cold surged over me like a tide, drowning me.
The bells of enthronement and the cheers finally faded. Night once more shrouded the capital, and also enveloped the silent courtyards of the chancellor's residence.
That night, I slept fitfully. My dreams were bizarre and chaotic—at times Xiao Yuhuang's burning gaze beneath the plum trees; at times the former emperor's shocked, contorted face; at times Eldest Sister's bloodstained prison garb; at times Xiao Linyue's fierce yet pained stare… In the end, all images shattered and merged into an endless, icy darkness. Within that darkness, only a single dark-cyan figure sat high upon the imperial throne, gazing down upon all living beings, her eyes still as an ancient well, unfathomably deep.
At dawn the next morning, before the sky had lightened, I was startled awake by an unusual disturbance.
It was not the light, careful movements of servants as on ordinary days, but orderly, steady footsteps, accompanied by the faint clink of metal armor, stopping outside my courtyard gate.
Aunt Qin was already up. With a grave expression, she walked to the door. Through the crack, shadowy figures of palace guards clad in light armor could be seen standing silently, encircling the small courtyard without a sound.
There was no shouting, no confrontation, not even a single unnecessary word.
Only a silent encirclement.
A chill deeper and more helpless than when I had heard the former emperor's secret the day before seized me instantly.
This was not protection.
This was confinement.