Chapter Thirty-Eight: Death Is

On this tranquil morning, a harrowing scream from Wei Yanqiao jolted the entire Cold Palace from its slumber.

Upon hearing the cry, the guards stationed at the Cold Palace rushed into the courtyard like arrows released from a bow. They found Wei Yanqiao deathly pale, collapsing to the ground in a state of frantic terror. Before her, a madwoman, looking like a phantom, was brandishing a gleaming dagger and stabbing wildly at Shui Yao.

Shui Yao was already covered in wounds, blood spurting out and staining the ground beneath her. Her eyes were wide open, fixed in a glare of lingering resentment and unwillingness to accept her cruel fate.

Just a little while longer, and she would have been able to leave this place and regain her freedom.

The madwoman’s eyes were bloodshot, her face twisted in a ferocious grimace. She shrieked viciously, "I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you, you wretch! I will make you pay in blood and settle the debt for my son’s life!" As she screamed, she continued to stab frantically at Shui Yao’s broken body.

The guards were horrified. "Stop her!" they shouted, rushing forward to pull the woman away. But the madwoman, lost in a fit of mania, ignored their interference and continued to strike at Shui Yao, cursing incessantly.

It took a great deal of effort for the guards to finally restrain her. Even then, she did not stop, thrashing about and trying to break free of their grasp, still waving the dagger. Eventually, the guards ruthlessly twisted her arms behind her back and bound her tightly with heavy rope. Even then, she continued her frantic wailing.

Seizing her chance, Wei Yanqiao scrambled over to where Shui Yao lay in a pool of blood. Gazing at the blood-drenched, unresponsive girl, her heart shattered. Tears streamed down her face as she wailed in utter agony, "Shui Yao! Shui Yao! You must be alright..."

Shui Yao’s once-vibrant eyes were now dull and vacant. A stream of crimson liquid surged from her mouth like a fountain, splashing onto the cold floor. Her breath was as faint as a candle in the wind, each gasp a monumental struggle. With her final ounce of strength, she whispered, "I want... to go home..."

Wei Yanqiao was weeping inconsolably, gasping for air. She clutched Shui Yao’s cooling hand, screaming at the top of her lungs, "Shui Yao! Someone, fetch the imperial physician! Quickly, call for a physician!"

However, the guards merely exchanged glances. To enter the Cold Palace was akin to a death sentence, and as a disgraced convict, Shui Yao had no right to medical aid. For these guards, intervening to stop the chaos was already the extent of their duty.

Wei Yanqiao’s voice was raw and shredded with grief. "Shui Yao! Don't die! I’ll go find a physician for you! You must hold on and wait for me!"

She gently laid down the dying girl, stumbled to her feet, and dashed toward the gate, desperate to save her.

Before she could take more than a few steps, a group of guards blocked her path like an impenetrable wall. One of them said blankly, "Without the Emperor’s decree, you shall not take a single step out of this Cold Palace."

Wei Yanqiao had lost all reason. She shoved at the guards with all her might, screaming, "Get out of my way! I must find a physician to save Shui Yao! You heartless wretches, are you going to just watch a life fade away?"

The guards remained unmoved by her madness, watching her with cold detachment. Suddenly, one guard shoved her hard. Weak and frail, Wei Yanqiao collapsed to the ground with a dull thud.

She did not care about the pain. Struggling to rise from the freezing ground, her eyes filled with helplessness and desperate pleading, she sobbed, "I beg of you... don't close the door... just let me go find a physician, please? I’ll do anything to save her..."

Her pleas fell on deaf ears. The guards turned away without hesitation. With a heavy, resonant slam, the gate of the Cold Palace closed once more, sealing Wei Yanqiao and the dying Shui Yao within that narrow, frigid prison.

"No!" Wei Yanqiao shrieked, but the doors were already shut.

Her face tear-streaked and her heart turned to ash, she stumbled back to Shui Yao’s side, only to find that the girl had already drawn her final breath.

Wei Yanqiao collapsed, clutching Shui Yao’s cooling body, weeping until her heart felt as if it were being torn apart.

"It’s all my fault! If only I hadn't been so headstrong, if I had listened to you and bowed my head to the Emperor, we wouldn't have ended up like this. We wouldn't have been cast into the Cold Palace, and you... you wouldn't have lost your precious life!" She sobbed, her voice trembling and hollow.

Wei Yanqiao’s soul seemed to have departed. She sat in the courtyard, hollow-eyed and dazed, cradling the corpse. She kept muttering, "Your Majesty, I know I was wrong. Your Majesty, please forgive me. If only you would let Shui Yao live, I would pay any price!" Her desolate pleas echoed through the Cold Palace, lingering in the air.

When the heavy, decaying gates finally creaked open with a haunting groan, Bi Zifu hurried in, his expression panicked, followed by a group of palace attendants.

The moment they stepped inside, a pungent, sickening scent of blood assaulted their senses.

Bi Zifu looked down to see Shui Yao’s small frame lying on the cold ground, her clothes soaked in blood—a sight that shook him to his core. He gasped in horror.

Beside her sat Wei Yanqiao, her beautiful face as pale as parchment, her own robes stained with blood like a withered flower.

Hearing the gates, Wei Yanqiao turned her head mechanically. As her gaze met Bi Zifu’s, a haunting, desolate smile touched her lips—a smile filled with endless sorrow, despair, and grief. Her lips trembled as she murmured, "Your Majesty, I was wrong..." Before she could finish, the world went black, and she collapsed, losing consciousness.

Seeing this, Bi Zifu was frantic. "Quickly! Send for the imperial physician at once!"

The attendants rushed out of the Cold Palace to summon help.