Chapter 1: Torment (1)

Eastern Mo Empire, early June. The crown prince, Zhongzheng Wuqi, was deposed. In July of the same year, he was granted death by imperial wine.

The early summer night was tinged with a slight chill, the darkness settling like black ink. The river wind stirred the willows along the bank, the scenery intoxicating.

Inside the prison of the Supreme Court.

From within a dilapidated cell came the ragged breathing of a man, mingling with the unrestrained laughter of a group of men.

After a frenzy of madness, one man stood up in satisfaction while the others exchanged glances. One of them lunged again at the woman on the ground.

She remained utterly silent, not even the faintest moan escaping her lips.

It was impossible to say how long this depravity lasted before it finally ended. The last man, climbing off the woman, fixed a lewd gaze on her slightly swollen belly and spat, “I’ve had my way with so many women in this prison, but never a pregnant one!”

Another man, staring at her fine features, felt his throat tighten again. “Not only pregnant—she’s the crown princess!”

“Bah! The wife of a deposed crown prince still counts as a crown princess? But the child in her belly is royal blood, a true imperial grandson!”

The men exchanged glances, their intentions clear. They eyed her belly, then pounced once more. Cold sweat beaded on her forehead like drops of blood, and the pain twisting her delicate features was intense.

Suddenly, hurried footsteps echoed through the corridor. Into the cell strode a young gentleman in brocade, followed by two figures in voluminous black robes. Their faces were hidden, their age indiscernible, but their forms betrayed them as women.

The men, still engaged in their depraved act, noticed nothing.

The rest, upon seeing the gentleman, instinctively took a few steps back, bowing with both respect and fear. “Young Master Wen.”

The man still atop the woman jolted in alarm, scrambling to his feet and fumbling with his trousers, his face taut with anxiety.

Who in this place did not know? Before them stood Young Master Wen, the legitimate eldest son of the Prime Minister, and the elder brother of the deposed crown princess.

The atmosphere in the cell grew suddenly heavy.

The woman, who had seemed no more than a corpse, felt her lips tremble and a guttural sound, almost bestial, tore from her throat.

Her brother!

No—she would rather die than let her family witness her in such a state!

Tears traced down her cheeks, yet these tears were thick, tinged with crimson.

Blood and tears bloomed like hopeless flowers upon her beautiful face, deepening the oppressive air in the cell.

After a long silence, Wen Wenhao glanced at the woman on the ground, a cold smile curling at his lips. “It seems I’ve interrupted your entertainment?”

The men who only moments ago had been lost in their depravity exchanged uncertain looks. Unable to discern the young master’s intentions, they kept their heads bowed, too afraid to speak.

Wen Wenhao seemed about to say more, but one of the black-robed women behind him spoke in a lowered voice, “Wenhao, there are more important matters.”

Wen Wenhao snorted. “Had your fill? Then get out!”

The men, as if granted amnesty, fled the cell in haste.

The woman on the ground tried to lift her bound hands, but her eyelids felt as heavy as lead and would not open.

Mother—it was her mother’s voice just now.

No! In her current state, how could she let her mother see her?

Wen Wenhao looked down at her, noting the trembling that betrayed her agitation.

Hmph! Did this wretch truly think they had come to save her?