It was something that had never happened between them in all their thirty-one years of marriage. Bahuan looked straight into his eyes, her gaze cold and piercing enough to shake him to the core.
"Deng," she said, her voice trembling but steady with conviction, "for thirty-one years I've lived under your rule. I've endured, I've forgiven, but now I see you for what you truly are—a selfish man who sees nothing beyond his own desires. I used to make excuses for you, but not anymore. I'll tell you this, Deng—you and I are equals in madness. You've grown older, but never wiser."
She shoved his hand away, throwing him a glare full of disgust before turning to leave.
In a sudden burst of rage, Prince Deng lunged forward, grabbing the back of her dress and yanking her violently toward him. The fabric tore with a sharp rip, and as she stumbled forward, he kicked her with brutal force.
The impact sent her crashing to the ground with a pained cry that tore through the quiet room. The sound was so sharp and haunting that it sent servants and other concubines running toward the room from every direction. Even those stationed at distant posts heard Bahuan's scream.
But Prince Deng didn't stop. His fury only grew, he step on her back so hard that make a creepy sound, it looks like he broke her spinal core.
Within seconds, his eldest son, Husan, burst into the room. Seeing his father striking his mother, he let out an animalistic roar and charged, shoving Deng so hard he slammed into the wall.
Husan didn't hesitate....he seized his father by the collar and began choking him. Husan was wild, impulsive, and reckless, but he loved his mother fiercely. He had long hated his father for the way he treated her, even though she always denied it, covering bruises with lies..."I slipped," "It's nothing." But once Husan grew older, he saw the truth: his father's violence wasn't just toward Bahuan, but toward his other wives as well.
The women in the chamber trembled, unsure whom to help...Prince Deng, gasping for breath, or Bahuan, writhing on the floor in pain. Husan slammed his father's head against the wall again and again, punching him in blind fury, tears mixing with anger on his face.
Panicked, the concubines scrambled to call for Prince Langya, but he didn't answer—three calls went unanswered. In desperation, they contacted Daneen, hoping she would alert Dowager Ruyan and Prince Aoying, knowing those two were the only ones Prince Deng feared. Both Dowager Ruyan and Prince Aoying were known throughout the palace as people who tolerated no insolence.
The call reached Prince Aoying just as he was leaving King Yibo's chamber after accompanying him through the evening. Daneen, too, had just left her quarters when the message came through. Alarmed, they both rushed toward Prince Deng's residence. Dowager Ruyan was immediately escorted there in a car, and at that same moment, Prince Langya also headed there, disturbed by the report.
He had already sensed Prince Deng's growing instability that morning when King Yibo refused to attend the council meeting. Now, realizing this violent outburst was tied to the same turmoil, Langya felt a grim certainty—it was time to stop standing by Deng's side. It was time to confront him.
By the time they arrived, Husan had finally been pulled away from his father. He collapsed to the floor, coughing violently, blood running down his temple from where he had slammed his head.
Prince Deng lay gasping, clutching his throat, while Bahuan whimpered in pain nearby. Husan crawled to her and held her close, crying as he begged her to stay awake.
Dowager Ruyan entered, her eyes sharp as steel, while Prince Aoying froze for a moment before exchanging a grave, knowing look with her. The weight of what they saw—the chaos, the blood, the shattered order of the royal household... hung heavy in the air.
His took his phone as he called the clinic, ordering an ambulance to the entrance of Prince Deng's wing..... Prince Deng and Bahuan were rushed to the hospital. Husan and the Dowager Ruyan, along with Daneen, went to her wing. The child was crying heartbreakingly, enough to evoke anyone's pity. Anyone who looked at his mother knew there was a major problem on her back with his father's actions.
The rest of the wives and children sat in stunned silence. Everyone was visibly worried. This was a profound disgrace; if it got out, even within the palace walls, they would never know peace. Their husband was a wicked man; it wasn't today he had first laid hands on them. But if you excluded the Late King Murong, the Dowager Ruyan, and his own mother, Consort Jixue, before she died, no one knew that. Even among his children, only Husan knew, along with Fai, who was now a young woman, for whom fate had not yet provided a husband. Although she was not lacking suitors, she refused to listen to any young men because of her enduring affection for King Yibo since his return to Beiping. Even the death of King Yibo's consorts had not made Fai give up her feelings for him. When Yibo's true face was revealed, she had been driven nearly to madness. Despite this, she was still exceptionally beautiful, but King Yibo seemed completely unaware of her.
What they were trying to avoid had unfortunately happened, as spy sarvants of their own wing had already begun to spy and report back to their masters. This was the custom of the palace. Most of the staff in any wing you would find were informants for various factions. Even their own family heads knew that within their homes, there were spies they could not identify or expose, let alone remove from their service. This forced everyone to endure and live with extreme caution. The emergence of this rumor was exactly like the one that had begun circulating about someone placing cursed objects in King Yibo's seating throne. And the talk from Prince Langya was now being directly interpreted as pertaining to Prince Deng. Prince Deng's current actions had further confirmed that Prince Langya's words had a strong scent of truth to them.....
:-*:-*:-*:-
Zhan, for his part, was unaware of what had happened, having not seen King Yibo since he left the Chamber that afternoon. Despite everything, his sleep had been deep. He had woken up late in the evening. Zhan had barely touched the food brought to his room. Knowing that no one came up to the top floor except King Yibo and his most trusted aide, Zhan took the phone King Yibo had given him, along with a card, and ventured out.
He entered a massive living room from which an incredibly pleasant scent emanated. It was silent and empty; even the televisions were off—there were about three of them, given the room's size. Zhan's gaze swept over the opulent furnishings; this was no ordinary place. Watching TV was not his thing, but her follow the news due to his deep passion for journalism. That was his ambition, and fate willing, he would achieve it if he continued to breathe in this world.
Settling into one of the plush chairs, Zhan began to scan the vast, interconnected living room with a look as if he were seeing it for the first time. Everything inside was furnished with astonishing wealth, appearing immaculate as if not meant for the human world (Well, a living room like this surely only exists in novels, lol!). Zhan pursed his lips, suppressing a laugh known only to himself. From there, he relaxed and began operating the phone to do the online shopping King Yibo had instructed him to do, as he didn't want to border Daneen.
However, Zhan felt the weight of having met two people, the Dowager Ruyan and Daneen, because of the way he poisoned their blood, yet they supported and protected him. This matter was both baffling and added another layer of strange discomfort to his urge to avoid them.
Some black athletic wear with red trim particularly caught his eye, and Zhan smiled in appreciation. However, seeing the price tag made his eyes nearly pop out. He then pursed his lips and shrugged, muttering to himself that, after all, the money belonged to the people of Beiping; fine, he would take his share. With this justification, his heart eagerly added the stylish, expensive items to the cart, wearing a mischievous smile, thinking that when King Yibo saw the his account bill, he would realize Zhan was not playing games.
(I say, hmmmm 😂)
Seeing that night had fallen and a cool breeze was drifting through the palace, Zhan rose from the living room and returned to his room. Not long after, King Yibo entered...fresh from horseback riding.
He paused in the doorway, glancing around the room as the faint scent of Zhan's perfume lingered in the air. Realizing no one was there, he exhaled softly, his expression composed yet distracted, before heading toward his chambers. A short while later, he reappeared—clearly bathed and dressed for another outing...then left again without a word.
- - -
Meanwhile, word of the recent turmoil had spread through every corner of the palace, reaching even Dowager Taihou's ears. Just as her trusted maid was reporting the situation, Jasrah burst in, visibly shaken.
Dowager Taihou...her composure slipping...looked sharply at Jasrah as the maid delivered her news in a trembling voice: strange charms and talismans had been found beneath the royal throne.
"Enough!" the Dowager snapped, and the maid scurried out, trembling.
But before she could even leave the room, Jasrah's voice broke through in panic, tears streaming down her face.
"Sister, this is getting out of hand. These people will destroy Yibo if this continues! One disaster after another.... can't he just step down and let them have the throne before they kill him? Please, call him. We need to know if he's safe. Even though Langya said he hasn't sat on the throne yet, I can't calm down until I hear his voice!"
Dowager Taihou pressed a hand to her chest, breathing heavily. Her eyes closed for a moment before snapping open again...red, furious, and burning with resolve. She didn't want words; she wanted proof...she needed to see her son with her own eyes, to be certain he was unharmed.
She swore to herself then that if anything happened to her son...if he even suffered as he once did...no one in the empire would escape her wrath. She would drag every conspirator, even Dowager Ruyan herself, into the flames if needed.
This time, she was ready. Even if it meant setting the entire Beiping Empire ablaze, she would make sure her son's honor and life were protected...no matter who stood in her way.
And so, the fury of the Dowager reached its breaking point.
***
Zhan stepped out of the shower, running a towel through his damp hair. The cool night air drifting through the palace made everything unusually quiet, even though it wasn't that late. He was about to get ready for bed when the intercom on the bedside table rang sharply, slicing through the silence.
He froze, staring at the phone as it rang once... then stopped. A moment later, it rang again.
With a reluctant sigh, Zhan reached for it and lifted the receiver to his ear, saying nothing. Silence. Not even the sound of breathing came through, and after nearly a minute, his patience began to wear thin.
"I'm hanging up," he said irritably, rolling his eyes.
Still, there was no answer... only the faintest sound, like a quiet movement from the other end. Zhan frowned. "Did you just call to waste my time?" he muttered under his breath.
Somewhere on the other end, King Yibo allowed himself a faint smirk...barely visible, barely there. "Meet me in Room Two," he said in a low, even voice. "And don't keep me waiting if not.... Hmmm."
Before Zhan could respond, the line went dead.
He blinked, lowering the phone slowly as his heart thudded once, hard. "He wants me… now?" he muttered, pacing back and forth. For once, the usually composed and outspoken Zhan felt something close to panic...though he couldn't tell if it was fear, confusion, or something else entirely.
King Yibo had a way of making people feel trapped between defiance and obedience, and Zhan, despite all his claims of fearlessness, could feel the weight of that authority even now.
The echo of the King's voice...deep, commanding, and unfinished...played over and over in his head, pushing him to move faster. He grabbed the nearest outfit he could find: a sleek red-and-black robe that brought out the pale tone of his skin. He hadn't even realized what he'd picked until he'd already put it on. The scent of Yibo's cologne lingered in the air...rich, sharp, and unmistakable.
Among the packages that had arrived earlier from his online order, the fine fabrics and tailored clothes now looked almost absurdly expensive. Zhan groaned softly, thinking, If he sees how much I spent, I'm done for. He couldn't believe how high the prices had been.
He moved quietly down the hallway, each step measured and careful, heart pounding like a drum. Finding Room Two wasn't easy...there were at least five identical doors along the corridor. After hesitating for several minutes, he finally rested his hand on the handle and turned it slowly.
The room inside was dimly lit, cool, and filled with a deep, intoxicating fragrance. The air conditioning was so cold it bit into his skin. Rubbing his arm to chase away the chill, Zhan's gaze landed on King Yibo, seated comfortably in a white silk pajamas that shimmered under the faint light.
Yibo didn't even look up when Zhan entered. He sat calmly in a low chair, his laptop open in front of him, a cup of steaming tea beside it. The sleeve of his pjama had slipped just enough to reveal the firm lines of his forearm...a quiet display of strength.
The soft sound of the door opening, the rush of Zhan's scent, the slight shift in the air...none of it made Yibo flinch. He continued typing, serene and focused, as if he hadn't known that Zhan come.
Zhan met King Yibo's eyes and then looked away. For the first time he felt a flicker of curiosity...what was the King always doing on that laptop? Yibo barely ever held a phone, but a computer at his side was another story: when he sat down he never let it go. Zhan stayed where he stood, watching him, wondering whether Yibo even noticed his arrival. He called a soft greeting under his breath; Yibo's eyes closed briefly at the sound, then opened again and returned to the screen, as if Zhan's presence barely registered.
Irritation tightened Zhan's features...if the King hadn't heard the first greeting, how could he ignore the second? Yibo's gaze shifted like a slow, cutting glare, but did not rise to meet him. Zhan considered turning and leaving, though he knew he wouldn't. He stayed rooted, taking in the room.
This bedroom...one of the King's private suites...was something else entirely. Everything inside felt larger-than-life: a massive bed that could swallow ten people, glass-fronted wardrobes, mirrors and polished furniture arranged with flawless symmetry. The chairs and ornaments were pitched in gold and dark lacquer; luxury was everywhere. Even if Zhan tried to catalogue it all, he would grow tired....the room was simply overwhelming.
A low, steady voice cut through the hush...King Yibo's, controlled and cool. "Are you now a soldier?" he asked.
Zhan bristled and answered with a half-smile and a little edge in his tone, "I wasn't given space to sit." He sounded playful but annoyed.
Again Yibo didn't respond immediately. He lifted his head with mild effort and fixed Zhan with bright, piercing eyes. Zhan dropped his own face into a mock pout, then moved to take a seat opposite the King. Yibo's fingers returned to the keyboard, focused, barely looking up. After a few long minutes he finally exhaled and the intercom by his side began to ring.
Zhan watched Yibo, who seemed not to flinch. On the second ring the King reached for the receiver, laid his back against the chair, and closed his eyes. Instead of the aide he expected, Yibo's voice carried a familiar tone when he answered....a soft, reserved "Hello." Then he stood, glanced at Zhan, and said simply, "Let's go."
Zhan had no choice but to follow. He didn't ask where they were going or why. As he rose, Yibo's hand hold his, light and deliberate. Zhan looked up quickly, though the King wasn't really looking back at him.
They entered the living room together; Zhan's heart began to race. As they approached, he caught his first real sight of Dowager Taihou seated like a marble statue... her face composed and unreadable, not a hint of a smile. Zhan's hand left Yibo's and began to pull back, but Yibo stopped as if rooted to the spot, then continued forward with the same composed stride.
Dowager Taihou didn't notice Zhan immediately; she rose the moment Yibo reached her and wrapped herself around him in an embrace. The King closed his eyes slowly and let out a soft sigh, relief and something like comfort softening his features... something he had needed for a long time. He stayed in her arms for nearly twenty seconds before she pulled back, wiping a tear away and looking at him with fierce devotion. In that gaze there was no doubt: he was the center of her world.
She held him with a kind of fierce love that silenced any sensible thought.
He said softly, taking her hand in his. He raised it to his face and wiped the tear from her cheek, unsettled....seeing tears on his mother's face was never a small thing. He knew her strength; he knew she was a woman who could stand against the world.
"Mom" He called her name.
She hugged him back, voice tight with pain. "If anything has happened to you like before, nothing will stop me from acting.... whoever it is, I won't forgive them. I didn't forgive them before, Yibo." She moved quickly, grabbed the pen and the paper stack she'd left on the chair, and took his hand again. There was no softness in her expression as she spoke, only iron resolve.
"As your mother," she said, "I order you to....divorce that boy. And withdraw whatever protection you've placed around him."
A sudden, heavy thud of panic and tension rose in King Yibo.... a feeling he'd never known before.... but he swallowed it down and steadied his gaze on her. He meant to sit, to follow her lead, but for a moment he faltered. In that pause the practiced restraint that had always defined him held steady; his face gave away nothing.
Zhanxianyibo💚❤️💛