Chapter 19: Monster

# Chapter 19 The Monster

In Mingde Hall.

The summer sunlight, slanting from the southeast, streamed through the windows into the spacious, opulent bedchamber. Zhao Chun, lying on the soft bed, opened his eyes.

The familiar scent of sandalwood incense in the room immediately brought him a sense of relief. Last night’s events were just a nightmare, right?

Yes, it must have been a nightmare!

He hadn't received any decree to depose the Empress, nor had he met Prime Minister Li. Empress Chi hadn't locked him in Mingde Hall, forcing him to drink strange concoctions. And Ling Qiong hadn't tortured him relentlessly.

All of it was nothing but a nightmare conjured by his imagination.

Suddenly, a low, hoarse voice broke the silence, "Your Highness, you're awake."

He turned his head in shock, only to see Ling Qiong standing by the bed, her gaze fixed on him with a sinister smile... No! This couldn’t be real!

Ah, the pain!

Sensation abruptly returned to his body, bringing with it an intense agony. His entire being felt as if it had been crushed, especially his ten fingers—their tips felt as if they were held over a flame, the blood scorched dry, making the torment unbearable.

Those terrifying memories flooded his mind once more.

Ling Qiong had pinned down his hand, using pliers to pull out his nails, one by one. The sound of flesh tearing was enough to make one’s teeth ache.

Zhao Chun, terrified and shocked, opened his mouth wide to scream, "Ah! Ugh—!" But the sound that came out was muffled and strange.

Swallowing saliva felt like swallowing knives. His throat was torn and shattered, the pain causing his facial muscles to twitch violently.

Only then did he remember—his tongue and throat had been scalded by the potion Ling Qiong forced down his throat. His mouth was full of blood blisters.

Was this the pain Ling Qiong once endured? Help! Someone, save me!

Zhao Chun, in utter despair, struggled to sit up. The moment he looked down at his hands, his pupils trembled in shock.

—What is this?

The bright sunlight pierced through the gauze curtains, illuminating the thick, dark hair on Zhao Chun’s arms, each strand distinct. The wrinkled skin on his hands took on an unnatural pink hue—no matter how he looked at it, it didn’t resemble human skin.

Terrified, Zhao Chun rolled off the bed. The moment his feet touched the ground, a piercing pain shot through him.

"Ah! Ugh—!" Even the nails on his toes had been completely pulled out.

Ling Qiong feigned fear, taking two steps back as she looked at him in mock surprise. "Your Highness, what’s wrong with you? Have you been possessed by something unclean? How terrifying!"

Zhao Chun, seeing his fur-covered body, broke down in terrified sobs, tears soaking the hair on his face.

He looked at Ling Qiong, wanting to beg her to spare him, but all that came out of his mouth were strange growls. In the end, he could only look at her with tearful, pleading, and hopeless eyes.

"Does Your Highness want my help?" Ling Qiong asked softly, her curved eyes gleaming with excitement. "If the court officials found out that our Crown Prince has turned into a monster, they would surely burn you alive."

Zhao Chun trembled in fear, clutching his head in agony.

"What should we do?" Ling Qiong frowned, feigning distress.

Suddenly, she seemed to have a brilliant idea and clapped her hands with a laugh. "How about I help Your Highness pluck out all the hair on your body?"

No! No! He’d rather die outright!

Zhao Chun shook his head frantically. The mere thought of such torture was horrifying.

This Ling Qiong was a madwoman—she would show no mercy!

In utter despair, Zhao Chun heard voices from outside the room. A flicker of hope rose in his heart—surely, someone had come to save him!

Enduring the pain, he grabbed a porcelain vase by the bed and hurled it at Ling Qiong. Seizing the moment she dodged, he stumbled out of the bedchamber.

Help! Someone, save him!

If anyone could rescue him, he would willingly yield the throne to them!

Ling Qiong watched Zhao Chun’s frantic escape, the curve of her smile widening. Giving hope, then cruelly shattering it—wouldn’t that make despair even more profound?

She picked up the pliers and leisurely followed him.

————

Meanwhile, Zhao Mingyue, who had been brimming with confidence, found herself exhausted after just twenty draws of the bow.

Her arms began to tremble, the fingers holding the bowstring tingled faintly, and her wrists and shoulders ached intensely.

Although she had learned some archery skills from Chi Jing before, she lacked strength.

This was likely why Chi Jing had her practice with a heavy bow.

Zhao Mingyue let out a frustrated sigh, lowered her hands, and looked somewhat embarrassed as she turned to Yu Zhao. "I... I want to rest for a bit."

Yu Zhao glanced up at the sky. "Princess, if you rest any longer, you’ll miss lunch."

Zhao Mingyue had no choice but to grit her teeth and draw the bow ten more times. This time, her entire arm felt numb, as if ants were crawling through her bones.

She wiped the sweat from her forehead and looked pleadingly at Yu Zhao, her tone even becoming ingratiating. "Lady Yu Zhao, if I keep practicing, my hands will be ruined. It’s so hot outside—I don’t want you to get overheated. Let’s go back to the palace and rest for a while."

Yu Zhao remained unmoved, shaking her head. "Princess, I am only following orders. My mistress instructed me to ensure you complete fifty draws—not one less. Please do not make this difficult for me."

Zhao Mingyue’s face fell. She was about to protest further when Yu Zhao added, "I heard that the Crown Prince began practicing archery at six years old, drawing the bow a hundred times daily. Surely, Princess, you are not inferior to the twelve-year-old Crown Prince?"

Zhao Mingyue’s face flushed bright red. To suggest she was worse than Zhao Chun—that was nothing short of an insult!

Instantly, she found renewed strength, a surge of determination rising within her. She lifted the heavy bow and drew it twenty times in one go before stopping.

Her eyes stung from the sweat, and her clothes were soaked through, but she paid it no mind. Instead, she looked at Yu Zhao and slightly raised her chin. "Tell me, in what way am I inferior to Zhao Chun?" That good-for-nothing.

Yu Zhao smiled faintly. "The Crown Prince slacks off every day when drawing the bow. He struggles to manage even ten draws, let alone a hundred. Naturally, he is no match for Your Highness."

Zhao Mingyue was taken aback, then realized she had been tricked—and she had fallen for it.

Angry, Zhao Mingyue threw the bow at Yu Zhao. "You... how dare you!"

Yu Zhao caught it and was about to explain, but Zhao Mingyue had already turned away. "Fifty draws are done. I’m going to have lunch with Mother."

She strode out of the courtyard and headed in the direction of Qingning Palace.

Watching Zhao Mingyue hurry away, Yu Zhao shook her head helplessly. Surely the Princess wouldn’t hold a grudge over this? This task was truly difficult.

But the Princess didn’t seem the petty type. It was better not to speculate—she just needed to carry out her mistress’s orders faithfully.

With that thought, Yu Zhao picked up the heavy bow and quickly followed Zhao Mingyue.

On the way, the two passed by Mingde Hall, where Zhao Chun resided.

The usually open palace gate was tightly shut, with two guards with swords standing solemnly in front.

Zhao Mingyue paused. Did Mother have Zhao Chun imprisoned in Mingde Hall? She wondered what had happened after she left last night.

Out of curiosity and a slight concern for her younger brother, Zhao Mingyue turned and walked toward Mingde Hall. However, when she reached the gate, the guards blocked her.

"By the Empress's order, the Crown Prince is suffering from a shock-induced illness and requires quiet rest. No one may disturb him."

Zhao Mingyue was slightly surprised. It was one thing to stop others, but why was she barred too? Just as she was about to say something, she suddenly heard noises from inside.

It sounded like the growl of a beast, yet it came from a human throat—garbled and unnatural.

Zhao Mingyue froze, a chill running down her spine. As she was about to step back, Yu Zhao's voice suddenly rang out from behind, "Princess, let's visit the Crown Prince after he recovers."

The guards saluted, hands on swords, and said in unison, "Greetings, Lady Yu Zhao."

Zhao Mingyue turned around. Yu Zhao was holding her bow and arrows, looking at her calmly as if she hadn't heard the terrifying sound at all.

Forgetting her earlier displeasure, Zhao Mingyue hurriedly clutched the hem of Yu Zhao's clothes, looked up, and asked, "Sister Yu Zhao, what happened to Zhao Chun? I think I just heard his voice."

Yu Zhao replied calmly, "You must have misheard, Princess. Let's go." With that, she took Zhao Mingyue's hand and led her away from the palace.

As Zhao Mingyue followed her down the steps, two heavy thuds suddenly came from inside. Zhao Mingyue immediately jumped, wrenched free from Yu Zhao's grasp, and ran back to the gate.

"I didn’t mishear! That was Zhao Chun’s voice. I want to see him!"

Yu Zhao watched her silently for a moment before speaking, "Princess, it’s best not to defy Her Majesty."

A sense of dread rose in Zhao Mingyue’s heart. What exactly did Mother do to Zhao Chun? Was that bowl of medicine truly just for calming nerves, as she had said?

No matter what, she wanted to know the truth.

Zhao Mingyue insisted, "I’ll just peek from outside the door. I won’t do anything else."