CHAPTER 213 — SHE BROUGHT CALAMITY UPON HERSELF
Tang Kexin woke the next morning to soft daylight spilling across the room. Ye Lanjue was already gone — summoned to morning court — but the imprint of his warmth still lingered beside her.
Her gaze drifted to the neatly folded clothes laid out on the bed.
For a moment, she simply stared.
Last night… Last night, she hadn't pushed him away. Last night, he had been gentle — achingly gentle — and restrained in a way she had never expected from him.
And this morning, her body felt light, not weary. Her heart… even lighter.
A soft knock sounded.
"Princess Consort, are you awake?" Wen Yu's voice floated through the door.
"Yes," Tang Kexin replied, pulling herself together and dressing quickly.
Wen Yu entered with a basin of warm water. "Please wash your face, Princess Consort. His Highness said that once you're ready, we'll enter the palace. I'll accompany you."
Tang Kexin nodded — then paused.
"Wen Yu… what date is it today?"
"The tenth," Wen Yu answered, puzzled. "Is something wrong?"
The tenth.
Perfect timing.
Tang Kexin's eyes sharpened. The Suo Yan Sect had promised their assistance — and today, they would be able to act.
"Nothing," she said lightly. "Prepare the carriage."
Wen Yu bowed and left without further questions.
After breakfast, Tang Kexin and Wen Yu entered the palace. Ye Lanjue was already waiting at the gates. When he saw her, he stepped forward immediately, offering his hand to help her down from the carriage.
The nearby guards nearly dropped their spears.
The Third Prince — cold, aloof, untouchable — helping someone down with such tenderness?
"Go and prepare," Ye Lanjue said casually.
"Yes, Your Highness," Wen Yu replied.
Tang Kexin felt his gaze on her — warm, steady, grounding. Whatever had happened last night had softened something in him… and in her.
"Are you certain Imperial Concubine Rong will act today?" she asked.
"Absolutely." Ye Lanjue's smile was faint, but confident. "Even if she didn't, I would make sure she did. She won't escape today."
Tang Kexin nodded. "What's the plan?"
"We wait," he said simply. "And let her reveal herself."
He preferred decisive action — swift, lethal, final. But Imperial Concubine Rong had walked the palace like a ghost for years. If he struck too quickly, ministers would protest, and the Crown Prince's faction would stir.
No — she needed to expose herself.
"Alright," Tang Kexin said. "As long as she pays for poisoning the Empress."
Ye Lanjue's eyes softened. "She will."
He took her hand — fingers interlacing with hers — and led her toward Kunning Palace.
Tang Kexin glanced down at their joined hands. Such intimacy… It felt strangely natural.
Kunning Palace was quiet, heavy with tension.
Dong'er bowed when they entered, then resumed her silent vigil.
"Imperial Father," they said together.
The Emperor looked up. His eyes were bloodshot, his face drawn with exhaustion.
"Yes… I'm here."
He already knew what was coming. He didn't know whether to hope or dread it.
"Where is the Fourth Prince?" Tang Kexin asked. It was strange — Ye Lanchen would never ignore the Empress's condition.
The Emperor hesitated. "I sent him back. He is praying for the Empress."
Tang Kexin sensed there was more to the story, but she didn't press. Some things were not hers to ask.
Ye Lanjue, now certain Tang Kexin held no affection for his younger brother, let the matter go.
Near noon, servants arrived with food from the imperial kitchens.
Tang Kexin stepped forward immediately, testing each dish with a silver needle.
When she dipped it into the abalone and bird's nest soup, the needle turned black.
"Arsenic?" she murmured, frowning. "Why use something so common? And so easily detected?"
The Empress had been poisoned with something rare and deadly — yet Imperial Concubine Rong used a crude, obvious poison?
Unless… She wanted to be caught.
"Bring Imperial Concubine Rong," the Emperor ordered coldly. "The Crown Prince is forbidden from entering."
"Yes, Your Majesty!"
Tang Kexin looked at him. He had made his decision.
Her heart tightened. He had only four children. Too few for an Emperor. And now he had to condemn one of them — or rather, the mother of one of them.
It was cruel. But necessary.
In Rongxi Palace, Imperial Concubine Rong was pacing, her nerves frayed. Something felt wrong — terribly wrong — but she had no way out.
When the guards burst in, she dropped her teacup. It shattered across the floor.
She knelt to pick up the shards, hands trembling.
"Imperial Concubine Rong," the guard said coldly, "please come with us. The Emperor awaits you in Li Palace."
Her fingers slipped, slicing her skin. Blood welled up.
"Mistress, let this servant bandage—"
"Imperial Concubine Rong. Now."
She straightened slowly, wiping her hand on her sleeve.
"I will change my clothes first."
She walked with her back straight, each step heavy with resignation.
When she reached Li Palace, she paused beneath the plaque, eyes dimming with sorrow.
"Move," the guard snapped.
She entered.
The Emperor sat in the centre, expression carved from stone. Ye Lanjue and Tang Kexin sat to the side.
Imperial Concubine Rong knelt.
"Imperial Concubine Rong," the Emperor said, voice cold, "do you have anything to say?"
"I do not know what crime I have committed," she replied softly. "Why does Your Majesty treat me this way?"
"Poisoning the Empress. Attempting to murder the Emperor. Is that not enough?"
Her eyes widened — fear flickering — but she kept her composure.
"I know nothing of this."
"You bribed the imperial kitchens. You poisoned the dishes. And today, you repeated the same trick. Shall I have you taste the abalone soup yourself?"
The Emperor's voice trembled with restrained fury.
Imperial Concubine Rong's mask cracked.
"If Your Majesty wishes to condemn me, any excuse will do," she said bitterly. "But where is your proof?"
Ye Lanjue flicked his wrist.
A pearl rolled across the floor, stopping at her knees.
Her face drained of colour.
"What does Your Highness mean by this?" she whispered.
"Bribery," Ye Lanjue said lazily. "Yours."
"No one can prove it belongs to me!"
"Someone," Ye Lanjue said, leaning back, "come in."
A woman in palace dress stepped through the doorway.
And Imperial Concubine Rong's face turned ashen.
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CHAPTER 214 — SELF‑INFLICTED SIN CANNOT BE LIVED WITH
The moment Tang Kexin saw the woman enter, she froze.
Her steps were light, almost floating, her posture elegant, her face composed — but Tang Kexin recognised her instantly.
She had been with her only moments ago.
Tang Kexin's eyes narrowed, flicking briefly toward Ye Lanjue. He didn't look back, but the faintest curve at the corner of his mouth told her he had expected this.
The woman knelt behind Imperial Concubine Rong, her voice calm and respectful.
"Greetings, Your Majesty."
She said nothing more.
The Emperor's gaze swept toward Ye Lanjue, then back to the woman. His tone was low, heavy with restrained fury.
"What did you see?"
The woman bowed her head. "Reporting to Your Majesty… this servant saw Imperial Concubine Rong enter the imperial kitchens. She opened the abalone soup, inspected it, and left."
She didn't accuse. She didn't embellish. She simply stated the truth.
The Emperor turned sharply to Imperial Concubine Rong.
"Is this true?"
Imperial Concubine Rong bit her lower lip. "It is true."
Tang Kexin exhaled slowly. Her composure was frightening. No panic. No hysteria. No denial.
No wonder she had survived more than a decade in the palace.
"Then what else do you have to say?" the Emperor asked coldly.
Imperial Concubine Rong lifted her head. Her eyes glistened, but no tears fell.
"So many years… in Your Majesty's eyes, what have the Crown Prince and this concubine ever been worth?"
Her voice was soft, but the bitterness beneath it was sharp enough to cut.
She knew the Emperor didn't want to expose certain truths. She knew he didn't want to stain the Crown Prince. She knew exactly where the line was — and she stepped just close enough to it.
"You are Imperial Concubine Rong," the Emperor said flatly. "Mother of the Crown Prince. And the Crown Prince is my son."
"Yes," she whispered. "I am Imperial Concubine Rong. The head of the First Palace. Mother of the Crown Prince. But I am not your wife, Ye Qian."
Her voice cracked on his name.
The Emperor flinched — just slightly — and a bitter smile tugged at his lips.
He had neglected her. He knew it. But he had no love left to give.
Imperial Concubine Rong saw his silence and something inside her broke. The hatred drained from her eyes, replaced by a chilling calm.
"Why are you so ruthless?" the Emperor asked quietly, almost to himself.
"Because I want to live," she said, lifting her chin. "I want to live for the Crown Prince."
She didn't even bother with formal address anymore. This was her last shred of dignity.
"Did you act alone?" the Emperor asked.
Imperial Concubine Rong laughed bitterly. "Your Majesty, what can the Crown Prince do in his state? He cannot even stand."
Her voice trembled — with fear, with anger, with despair.
Silence fell like a blade.
Tang Kexin stepped forward. "Imperial Father, may Xin'er ask a few questions?"
"Go ahead," the Emperor said.
Tang Kexin faced Imperial Concubine Rong. "Who gave you the poison?"
"A man in black," she answered immediately. She wanted to shield the Crown Prince.
"Who is he?"
"He wore a mask."
"How many times have you seen him?"
"Only once."
Her answers were quick, steady — rehearsed. She had decided to take everything onto herself.
Tang Kexin bowed. "Xin'er has finished."
The Emperor's voice was cold. "Guards. Take Imperial Concubine Rong to the dungeons."
But Imperial Concubine Rong suddenly lifted her head, her eyes gleaming with something strange.
"Does Your Majesty still remember Concubine Ying… and Concubine Huan?"
The Emperor's entire body stiffened.
His face drained of colour. His hand clenched involuntarily.
Imperial Concubine Rong watched his reaction with a twisted satisfaction — then she laughed.
A wild, broken, piercing laugh.
She rose slowly, her gaze sweeping the room before settling on Ye Lanjue.
"Your mother, Concubine Ying… she did not wish for you to become Emperor."
Ye Lanjue's breath caught.
He had no memories of his mother — only the Empress's gentle descriptions. He had always believed she was kind, virtuous, gentle.
But now…
Imperial Concubine Rong's smile widened — and before anyone could react, she hurled herself at the pillar.
Crack.
Blood splattered across the floor.
She slid down the pillar, her eyes glazing over. Her last glance drifted toward Ningxue Palace — and then she was gone.
Ye Lanjue stared, stunned, unable to process what had just happened.
Tang Kexin's heart twisted. She reached out and covered his hand.
He tightened his grip around hers, grounding himself.
The guards stood frozen, horrified.
"Bury her," the Emperor said hoarsely, covering his eyes with one trembling hand.
Tang Kexin looked at Imperial Concubine Rong's lifeless body.
She had dressed beautifully today — lotus‑coloured robes, a jade‑green skirt, her hair pinned with a heavy crown. She had endured humiliation for decades. She had gambled everything for her son.
And in the end… She chose death over disgrace.
"Imperial Father," Tang Kexin said softly, "Xin'er and the Third Prince will go see the Crown Prince."
The Emperor waved a hand weakly.
They left him alone with his grief.
Outside, Tang Kexin finally spoke.
"Are you alright?"
Ye Lanjue exhaled slowly. "I barely remember my mother… but I never imagined her death was a secret."
"Even if Imperial Concubine Rong mentioned it," Tang Kexin said gently, "it may not be true. She may have said it to drive a wedge between you and the Emperor."
"Perhaps."
"Let's speak to the Crown Prince. He may know more."
The Crown Prince's palace was heavily guarded.
Inside, the Crown Prince sat upright, dressed in full regalia, waiting for them.
He looked eerily calm — and very much like his mother.
"I knew you would come," he said, smiling faintly.
And the real truth was about to begin.