Chapter 1: After Her Death, Let the Floods Rage.

Chapter 1: After My Death, the Floods May Come

The autumn chill deepened. A sudden rain the night before had left the entire city of Chang’an shrouded in a lingering damp haze.

In the crumbling courtyard, dry yellow leaves lay scattered, left unswept.

Under the eaves, two young maids sat lost in gossip.

“I heard the rebels suffered a crushing defeat in Hejian Commandery,” said one maid with twin buns, chin resting in her hands, eyes dreamy. “I wonder what rewards His Majesty will bestow upon Lord Xiao Yanxing this time? If not for him, the rebels might have marched all the way to Chang’an—how terrifying.”

Beside her, another maid in matching turquoise outfits held a broom, smirking. “I heard Lord Xiao remains unmarried. Surely you’re not dreaming of serving in his household?”

The first maid shot back defiantly. “His Majesty favors Lord Xiao so much. Once he returns to Chang’an, he’ll surely be rewarded with a mansion and servants. It’s not impossible for us! Didn’t His Majesty give Princess Zhaoyang hundreds of attendants when she married the prince?”

Before she could finish, the other maid abruptly dropped her broom and clapped a hand over her mouth.

“Do you have a death wish?” she hissed, darting a nervous glance toward the rear chamber.

Realizing her mistake, the talkative maid shrank back, suddenly silent.

Huh? Why’d they stop?

Inside the room, the woman on the bed slowly opened her eyes, a twinge of disappointment flickering through her thoughts.

Xie Lingyu had woken from the cold. When she woke, the room was empty, save for the lively chatter outside.

Since the new emperor ascended the throne, she had been confined here for five months.

It had been so long since she last saw the outside world. The idle gossip of these two girls was a rare novelty.

So much so that she couldn’t bear to interrupt, letting them continue undisturbed.

After a while, Xie Lingyu pushed off the thin quilt and pressed her palms against the edge of the bed. Gritting her teeth, she forced herself upright. Her loose hair spilled forward over her snow-white underrobe, its dry, yellowed ends now far from the raven-black sheen it once had in her pampered days.

As she gazed at her hair, the door groaned open.

“Your Highness, why are you up?” Yingyue hurried in, her voice full of concern as she saw Xie Lingyu sitting by the bed.

Xie Lingyu looked at her and said softly, “I’ve told you before—don’t call me ‘Your Highness’ anymore.”

The words made Yingyue’s eyes prickle. She swallowed her sadness and quickly stepped forward to support her.

When Xie Lingyu settled before the dressing mirror, the ornate mother-of-pearl-inlaid bronze mirror clashed glaringly with the shabby room. Gilded and polished to perfection, it was clearly an object meant only for the palace.

She sat quietly, studying her reflection.

The woman in the mirror had once possessed a beautiful oval face, but now her hollow cheeks betrayed her starvation. Her lips were parched, her complexion pale.

Only her dark eyes still carried a trace of icy dignity—the last remnant of her former exalted status.

Xie Lingyu, Prince of Yongning—the first and only female prince in the history of Great Zhou.

As a royal princess, her status was without precedent or equal.

The greatest turning point in Xie Lingyu’s fate began ten years earlier, when her father, the previous Prince of Yongning, was still alive. Back then, she had merely been a spoiled, happy little princess in the palace.

It was the fifteenth year of Emperor Jiaming’s reign when her father took the blade meant for the late emperor, sacrificing his life in the act. The sword had been poisoned, and despite the best efforts of the Imperial Physicians, they could not save him.

As he lay dying, her father grasped the late emperor’s hand and made a final plea: since he had only one child—a daughter—he did not wish for another to inherit his title after his death. He begged the late emperor to name his young daughter, Xie Lingyu, the Prince of Yongning; otherwise, he could not close his eyes in death.

His words shocked everyone present—Empress Dowager, courtiers, and servants alike.

In all of history, no royal woman had ever been granted the title of prince. Traditionally, after the death of the previous Prince of Yongning, the emperor would have made Xie Lingyu a princess out of respect for her father’s sacrifice, then appointed a male heir to carry on the princely title. That would have honored both imperial favor and the established order.

But her father had always been rebellious and headstrong, living by his own rules.

Even at the end, he boldly challenged tradition with this request.

Though not born of the same mother, her father and the late emperor had grown up together under the care of the Empress Dowager, sharing a deep brotherly bond. After ascending the throne, the late emperor had shown him nothing but trust and indulgence.

Now, faced with the younger brother who had died shielding him from an assassin’s blade, overwhelmed by grief and guilt, the late emperor immediately decreed that Xie Lingyu should inherit the title of Prince of Yongning.

Yet all of that honor vanished the moment the new emperor ascended the throne—and she was confined.

“Is Princess Zhaoyang’s wedding to Pei Jing’an in half a month?”

Xie Lingyu gazed into the mirror, lips slightly curved as she softly asked.

Yingyue behind her dropped to her knees at once. “Your Highness, please do not grieve too deeply.”

Pei Jing’an—the future husband of Princess Zhaoyang, the new emperor’s beloved sister.

And yet, just six months ago, he had been Xie Lingyu’s husband.

A few days later, the sound of marching footsteps echoed through the courtyard, mingled with the clinking of armor.

*

Seated calmly beside the square table, Xie Lingyu watched the closed door until it swung open, revealing a slender figure silhouetted in the doorway.

This was the first time in six months—since her confinement began—that she had seen anyone from outside.

She lifted her gaze to the man before her, calm and detached, her dark eyes betraying no emotion.

Six months earlier, the late emperor had fallen gravely ill, and with the crown prince’s position still undecided, several princes eyed the throne. The court was plunged into turmoil. Yet against all expectations, the low-profile sixth prince, Xie Ling, emerged victorious in the struggle for power.

But barely a month after taking the throne, the fourth prince, Xie Cong, suddenly disappeared from Chang’an. By the time the court learned of it, he had already returned to his fiefdom and declared a revolt to “purge the court of traitors.”

It was during this time that Xie Lingyu was imprisoned on charges of helping Xie Cong flee—an act equivalent to treason.

The evidence? A secret letter found in her study, proving her collusion with Xie Cong and implicating her in his escape from Chang’an, which led directly to his rebellion.

At first, Xie Lingyu could not understand why the new emperor had targeted her specifically.

Only when news came of Princess Zhaoyang’s engagement to Pei Jing’an did she finally understand.

All of this had been to remove her—as an obstacle.

Now, Xie Lingyu looked at her former husband—now the future husband of the new emperor’s sister, Princess Zhaoyang—and asked, “Why did you do this?”

Even now, though she already knew the answer, she could not help but ask.

The man stepped forward, emerging from the shadows. His face, just as Xie Lingyu remembered him—refined, elegant, unchanged.

Pei Jing’an, the refined gentleman beloved by all, looked down at her and said, “Your Highness, I never wanted to simply drift along. Someone of your standing—not fighting for power is a mistake.”

Xie Lingyu looked at him and suddenly smiled.

Pei Jingan came from a distinguished family, and was himself a dashing young nobleman—brilliant and talented. He earned the *jinshi* degree at the tender age of twenty, making him the most sought-after suitor among all the noble daughters in the capital.

Moreover, his grandfather was a minister of unshakable loyalty, devoted solely to the emperor.

When the late emperor betrothed her to Pei Jingan, Xie Lingyu had been content with the arrangement.

By virtue of her status, she had never wished to involve herself in court politics, and had assumed Pei Jingan was like his grandfather—steadfast and principled.

Only now did she realize that from the very beginning, they had never been a good match. She sought only a peaceful life, while he was driven by power.

"Your Highness," Pei Jingan said, his voice tightening slightly, "if you truly possess a secret decree from the late emperor, you must know that it could lead you to eternal damnation. So I beg you, surrender it."

In recent days, a rumor had swept through Chang’an—that Xie Lingyu, Princess of Yongning, held a secret decree from the late emperor.

Though no one knew its contents, at a time when rebellion was brewing, it couldn’t help but stir suspicion.

"Eternal damnation," Xie Lingyu repeated the words softly, fixing her gaze on his face as her voice turned icy and sharp. "What difference does that make from my current state?"

Faced with her cold, distant eyes, Pei Jingan finally called out, "A Yu."

At those two syllables, Xie Lingyu’s calm expression flickered slightly. Once, they had been a loving pair, and in private, he had always used this pet name for her.

Now, hearing it again, all she felt was an uncontrollable surge of disgust and loathing.

"Prince Consort Pei," she replied, enunciating each word clearly, "mind your words."

Pei Jingan lowered his lashes slightly, his thoughts unreadable.

Then he spoke again: "His Majesty has no wish to annihilate you. But you are a woman—the title of princess was just a fleeting fancy of the late emperor. If you surrender the decree, after my marriage to the princess, I can ask her to plead for mercy on your behalf with His Majesty. Your life will be spared."

"So I should be grateful to you?" Xie Lingyu sneered coldly.

How absurd—they were the ones who framed me, and now they play the benevolent saviors.

It was only now that she truly understood: when you’re at their mercy, resistance is futile.

She was of royal blood, holding such a lofty title, yet she had missed the point—why her father had insisted on the late emperor granting her the title of princess before his death.

Her father had trusted no one. He had wanted her to have the means to protect herself.

Yet all this time, she had lived cautiously, steering clear of courtly machinations.

She had thought that by avoiding conflict, she could keep herself safe.

But she hadn’t realized that when others decided to move against her, she was defenseless.

If she had been a princess with real authority, would the new emperor have dared to show her such ruthlessness while rebellion raged outside? No—it was only because she was a woman bearing a princely title, with no one in court willing to speak for her.

"Get out," Xie Lingyu said, no longer willing to waste words on him. She already knew what she needed to know.

Pei Jingan hadn’t expected her to dismiss him so bluntly. "Your Highness, this is not the time for stubborn pride. If you truly possess the late emperor’s decree, please produce it—to quell the rebels’ momentum and spare the people the suffering of war."

Xie Lingyu looked at him with amusement. "If your emperor truly wishes to spare the people from war, why doesn’t he step down for a worthier ruler?"

Pei Jingan recoiled violently, staring at Xie Lingyu in utter disbelief.

He then looked toward the door and saw a man dressed in eunuch’s robes standing there.

"A Yu, don’t speak so carelessly," Pei Jingan said, finally showing a hint of panic. "Those words are treason."

Xie Lingyu braced her palm on the wooden armrest of her chair and slowly stood up, her icy stare locked onto Pei Jingan. "He may be your emperor, but not mine."

This new emperor—she had never once bowed to him.

Pei Jingan remained silent for a long while, as if gathering his resolve, before speaking in a low voice: "His Majesty once said that the late Prince Yong’an died saving the late emperor and couldn’t bear to see his line end. Half a month ago, the Dowager of Prince Yong’an submitted a petition to His Majesty, requesting to adopt an heir."

"A Yu, you really need to think ahead."

Her mother...

Xie Lingyu felt as though the last thread holding her together had snapped.

If Pei Jingan's betrayal was driven by ambition, why had even her mother cast her aside without a second thought? After her father's death, she had believed they only had each other.

During her confinement, her only concern had been her mother—fearing she would worry too much, fearing she would grieve too deeply.

Yet in the end, it had all been a solo act.

Their perfect marriage was a sham, and the loving bond between mother and daughter had been nothing but a mirage.

When calamity struck, she was nothing more than someone everyone could discard without a second thought.

Though Xie Lingyu stood motionless, the world seemed to tilt beneath her. For the first time, her cold and noble dark eyes lost their brilliance, her heart lost in the void, realizing there was nothing left in this world worth clinging to.

On the sixth day of the tenth month of the first year of Jingyun, half a year after the new emperor's ascension, Grand Marshal Xiao Yanxing achieved a great victory in Hejian Commandery before mopping up the remnants of the rebel forces in Wen’an Commandery. The rebel king Xie Cong made his last stand.

*

On the same day, within Chang'an, Princess Zhaoyang and her consort Pei Jingan celebrated their lavish wedding. Seizing the moment of triumph, the emperor bestowed generous rewards.

Yet all of this had nothing to do with Xie Lingyu anymore.

She lifted her gaze to the group before her. Just a quarter of an hour ago, this lonely, crumbling courtyard of confinement had welcomed outsiders once more.

The leader of the group was someone Xie Lingyu recognized—the eunuch who had come with Pei Jingan that day.

The eunuch stepped forward and knelt before Xie Lingyu. "This humble servant, Yang He, pays his respects to Your Highness."

Xie Lingyu's eyes swept over the person behind him, who carried a tray bearing a flask of wine and an exquisitely crafted cup. Calmly, she asked, "Is this wine bestowed upon me by His Majesty?"

Zhen wine—the imperial family’s merciful end for its wayward kin.

Yang He raised his head slightly, observing Xie Lingyu's composed demeanor, entirely devoid of fear or panic, and couldn't help but silently admire her.

Truly, one who held the title of prince despite being a woman—such grace was beyond mortal men.

"Your Highness, His Majesty says that if you are willing to repent and hand over the secret decree, he will show leniency and restore you to honor," Yang He said respectfully.

Xie Lingyu rose, took two steps past Yang He, and reached out to lift the wine cup.

At this moment, the cup was already filled.

An escape?

It was all just a trick to deceive her.

If she believed it again, even in death, she'd die from pure foolishness.

By the time Yang He looked up in alarm, Xie Lingyu had already downed the poisoned wine in one go.

With a sharp *clink*, the cup shattered to pieces as it hit the ground.

Xie Lingyu lowered her gaze to Yang He. "Go tell your emperor that the secret decree will appear when he least expects it."

Yang He was stunned and couldn't help but blurt out, "Did you... already give it to the rebels?"

Xie Lingyu didn’t answer. Instead, she walked toward the small couch by the window. Mustering the last of her strength, she pushed open the lattice, revealing a sliver of clear blue sky before her eyes.

The sky was a flawless blue, a rare clarity on this autumn day.

A cool breeze drifted in, lifting a stray lock of hair at her temple.

"Your Highness, why are you so stubborn? Don’t you know that by doing this, you’re a traitor to Great Zhou?" Yang He never expected Xie Lingyu to be so resolute—before he could even demand where the decree was, she had already drunk the poison.

The emperor had sent him primarily to uncover the secret decree’s location.

He’d planned to intimidate and coax her first. If that failed, he would resort to torture.

How could a spoiled noble like her handle torture?

Yet, Xie Lingyu didn’t even fear death, drinking the poison without a second thought.

No matter how desperately Yang He pressed her now, Xie Lingyu didn’t spare him another glance. She simply gazed quietly at the sliver of sky visible through the window. She coughed weakly, blood spilling from her lips until her mouth was entirely stained crimson.

Truthfully, there was never any secret decree.

It was all just a desperate ploy for self-preservation—but now, she cared for nothing.

As for what consequences this so-called decree might bring...

The light in her dark eyes began to scatter. Her senses dulled one by one—the clamoring questions faded, the figures in her peripheral vision blurred, and darkness swirled around her in thick, dizzying waves.

In the final moment before consciousness slipped away, only one thought remained in Xie Lingyu’s mind.

After death, let the world burn—she wouldn’t care.