Chapter 466 – Extra: The Grand Finale

Chapter 466 - Extra: The Grand Finale

The details of Xie Yihao's miserable days in confinement need not be elaborated.

She finally understood Qi Yunli's tactics – the more she showed fearlessness of death, the less likely it was for her to die.

With someone watching her every moment of the day and night, she, a cripple, couldn't even stand up, let alone end her own life.

To her surprise, the only moments she wasn't completely alone were when the Diligent Empress would visit.

Concubine Qin's every word was like a knife, piercing her heart. She didn't want to hear them, yet she couldn't refuse. But after Concubine Qin left, the servants barely spoke to her.

She was on the brink of madness from loneliness.

She knew that this was also Qi Yunli's intention.

She had never realized before how it felt to be ignored. Frequently questioning if she was still alive, she concluded that she was, yet the pain was unbearable.

She no longer cared about dignity. She wept, begged, and screamed, hoping that Qi Yunli would grant her death.

But it was futile, ultimately useless.

Neither the First Princess nor Prince Si could come. She couldn't meet anyone.

She could still speak, but those who heard her grew fewer and fewer.

The people in this Yining Pavilion were like mute attendants. They tended to her daily needs, treating her as if she were an inanimate object.

A lifeless object that couldn't die.

The feeling of being alive yet treated as if dead, she believed, was a solitude she alone understood.

Qiyun Li was truly ruthless. She regretted it, truly regretted it, and was now afraid.

But it was of no use; she didn't know how long she had to endure.

Perhaps Heaven still heard her wishes, for it didn't make her wait until she was old and gray. Xie Yixiao finally awaited the poisonous wine.

At this point, she had no energy left for love or hate. All she wanted was to die.

With a devout heart, she drank the poisonous wine as if it were a sacred ritual.

Not a single sip, not a drop was spared.

She had endured far too long; these days of living death were a torment she no longer wished to bear even for a quarter of an hour.

She was infinitely grateful that His Majesty had finally released her from her suffering.

At this moment, Xie Yáo bore no resemblance to her former self; she seemed like a deranged old woman.

She could hardly recall anything—her family, her children—these memories were difficult to summon.

All she desired was death, a single-minded pursuit that proved elusive. After so many years of torment, all hope had been extinguished within her.

Until this day.

When she finally finished the wine and lay down to await her end, her mind slowly pieced together her identity.

She had two children.

Still, she did nothing, not even uttering a word.

The prolonged torment had finally taught her that it was best for her to remain silent until the end.

Perhaps it would be better for everyone that way.

She knew nothing of what had transpired in Zhengyang Palace. She was unaware that He Jinli was also on the brink of death.

Nor did she know how the current Empress managed the harem.

She had been imprisoned for far too long.

Long enough for even Concubine Qin to lose interest in visiting her.

Indeed, she was on the verge of losing her mind, almost forgetting who she was. What was the point of Concubine Qin's visits now?

Closing her eyes, Xie Yiyao felt no sorrow; instead, she was filled with joy.

With a heart full of joy, perhaps the afterlife would be more tolerable.

Almost four decades of royal life had consumed the greater part of her existence. She could no longer recall the vibrant young woman she once was, skilled in horseback riding and archery, even assisting her father and brothers in military affairs.

Her pleasures exceeded those of women of her time.

Her glory was sealed with an imperial edict, yet it also marked the beginning of her unending suffering.

As an empress for these many years, she had ruled foolishly, incompetently, and to the amusement of others. Her role as a mother was equally disastrous.

And to His Majesty, she was far from being a worthy partner. Not quite virtuous, not entirely gentle, neither deeply loved nor hated.

She lacked the ferocity of the Concubine Shu and the decisiveness of Empress Qi Yunli. Ultimately, this led to estrangement between her children and discord with her spouse.

In the early days of her confinement, she pondered much. If only she had been as cruel as Concubine Shu, perhaps her fate would have been different.

Yet she couldn't bring herself to do it.

Every move was meticulously planned, yet every step led to misfortune. Eventually, she admitted that her own intelligence had fallen short.

The Xie family shone like a meteor, only to crash and burn forever after its brief brilliance.

In contrast, the Qi family withstood great adversity and remained steadfastly upright.

Formerly, she had blamed it on luck—good fortune for the Qi family, bad for the Xie family. But eventually, she came to understand. It was because the Xie family had ascended to greatness too swiftly without the necessary foundation. Their offspring lacked capabilities, and their elders lacked stability.

She was forced to concede that her father was inferior to Qi Xiang. And she herself was no match for Qi Yuling. She had maintained control over her maternal family for so many years, refusing to leverage her own favor for their benefit.

But she, Xie Yihao, could not do the same.

In the end, no matter how much support the emperor offered, the Xie family still couldn't regain its footing.

As a queen, she found herself unable to stand firm.

Her foolishness had led her, step by step, into this calculated trap.

She was incompetent but not entirely so; her attempts to resist were feeble and insufficient.

Ultimately, she found herself trapped between heaven and earth, with no escape.

Now, in the present day, she didn't particularly wish to reminisce about those decades spent in the palace. She longed for Linnan.

She missed the wilderness beyond the city walls. As a child, she would often ride with her brother, exploring the vast open fields.

They would gallop wildly, and her brother would always give way to her.

She cherished the sensation—wind caressing her cheeks, carrying tiny bits of sand that stung yet exhilarated.

When they grew weary, they would rest on the ground, leaning against her horse.

She even recalled its name—Tengyun.

When it galloped, it seemed to be soaring through the clouds.

Back then, who in Linnan didn't know of General Xie's legitimate eldest daughter?

Dressed in red, she was valiant and elegant.

She loved horseback riding, chasing after the wind, chasing after the clouds.

Back then, she believed this would be her life forever. She would always live like this.

But...

A royal decree sent her to the Eastern Palace.

Years after that, she never touched a horse again.

Nor did she imagine that one day, despite her exceptional horsemanship, she would fall from her mount and suffer a lifelong disability.

And her brother, her dearly beloved brother, was tragically assassinated in an undignified manner.

Oh no, no, no, it's all just a dream, an illusion.

Xie Yao would not accept these sentiments at the threshold of death.

She had finally fulfilled her wish to have a magnificent dream.

In the dream, there was no palace, no emperor, and neither the crown princess nor the fourth prince.

She found herself back in Linnan, riding horses with her brother on a crisp morning outside the city walls.

They didn't need to say anything; they only exchanged glances and smiles.

Both were as they were in their youth.

Her brother still wore his silver armor, looking handsome and refined.

And she, clad in a fiery red dress, galloped across the wilderness with a horsewhip in hand.

Riding freely amidst heaven and earth.

The road seemed endless, and they knew no fatigue. With smiles on their faces, they raced towards an unknown horizon, hearts brimming with delight and joy.

Until the flame of life guttered out, and eternal darkness embraced them.

But what of its extinguishing? Perhaps she would dwell forever in another realm, witnessing the nascent sun rise, breaking through the void.