The mad princess forces love upon him, and the aloof imperial advisor trembles every night.

If one cannot continue to have offspring... this is not marrying a wife, it is inviting a demon home, causing one's lineage to end!

Countless gazes—inquiring, pitying, disgusted, and gloating—were fixed on Chu Qingyue. It was as if they wanted to peel back her crimson python robe, a symbol of supreme glory, to examine whether it was already tattered and worn inside.

The expressions on the faces of those eligible young men were quite varied: some leaned back instinctively, as if she were some kind of filth or plague; others lowered their heads and gulped down their drinks, their cheeks flushed, their eyes filled with undisguised retreat and fear.

Some people covered their faces with their sleeves, but couldn't help but curl a secret and malicious sneer at the corners of their mouths—no matter how noble the bloodline, once tainted, it is not even as good as the most ordinary young lady. This was the scale in their hearts, cold and realistic.

Chu Qingyue laughed. Not her usual ambiguous smile, but a genuine laugh.

"Your Majesty is truly... incredibly considerate, always thinking of your son's needs. But—"

She stood up. Her crimson robe with python patterns shimmered with the luster of blood and fire under the palace lanterns, while the black jade belt inlaid with beads at her waist reflected a cold, sharp edge.

She descended the jade steps one by one, her crimson skirt brushing against the smooth, mirror-like gold bricks, each step catching the heartbeat of every person.

"During my seven years in Beiming, I did not learn needlework or embroidery, nor how to be a good wife and mother, nor... how to please a man."

She stopped in the center of the hall, turned to face the throne, her gaze so calm it was chilling.

"What I learned was how to use a three-foot-long sword to slit the throat of an enemy general, watch the hot blood spurt three feet, and hear the soft sound of the throat bones breaking. What I learned was how to strategize and use myself as bait to set up an ambush from all sides, turning an impregnable capital into a living hell, slaughtering everyone. What I learned was how to climb back from hell step by step, over the corpses of 300,000 Northern Darkness Iron Cavalry."

She paused, her smile deepening, her eyes surging with a blood-red light: "In your opinion, which 'good son-in-law' does this son deserve? Or rather—"

Her gaze swept across the seats, some eyes darting away, others flickering, finally settling on the faces of several old ministers who had secretly suggested to the Emperor that the Princess's military power be bound by a marriage agreement. Her voice suddenly turned cold.

"Among all these noble ladies, which fearless 'brave warrior' would dare marry a madwoman who sleeps with human heads as her pillow every night, whose skirt is soaked in blood, and who carries the wailing of 300,000 dead souls on her back day and night?"

"..." Deathly silence. Even breathing was kept extremely low.

The Empress's face stiffened slightly, and her well-maintained face twitched.

She forced a smile, but her voice was already unsteady:

"Yue'er is joking. You are a meritorious official of the Great Chu, and His Majesty's proudest daughter. Naturally, you deserve to be matched with the best man in the world..."

"The best young men?" She softly repeated the Empress's words, the last syllable drawn out with a strange, playful tone. "When I was in Beiming, I did see quite a few 'heroic' men."

She suddenly turned around and looked at the young man in blue robes who had been bowing his head the most and almost burying his face in the table—Zhao Heng, the son of the Vice Minister of Rites.

"Take a frail scholar like Young Master Zhao," she said, walking towards him step by step, her skirt rustling softly against the polished ground. He was handsome and learned. But if placed on the battlefield of the Northern Frontier… he probably wouldn't survive even a quarter of an hour. Do you know how the Northern Ming people treat captured scholars?"

Zhao Heng's face turned pale, and the wine cup in his hand fell to the ground with a "clatter," splashing wine onto his clothes.

Chu Qingyue leaned down, close to his ear, and whispered in a voice only the two of them could hear:

"They'll skin you alive—starting from the top of your head, slowly peeling it down, making sure it's a single, intact skin. Then they'll use your skin to make a war drum. Your bones will be pulled out one by one, ground into fine powder, mixed into ink, and used to write battle reports. —So that even after you die, you can still 'contribute to the great cause of the nation.' Don't you think that's...making the most of everything?"

"Ah—!!!" Zhao Heng suddenly pushed the table aside, scrambling backward and knocking over the servants behind him, looking utterly disheveled.

Chu Qingyue straightened up and chuckled softly. The sound echoed through the deathly silent banquet, sending chills down everyone's spine.

She turned and looked at the other son of a military general who had just been mocking her:

"As for someone as 'valiant' as Young Master Wang, I would like to ask you—have you ever personally chopped off a hundred heads, one by one? Have you ever seen a person with intestines spilling out and entrails steaming hot, yet still with their eyes open, crawling towards you with their last strength? Have you ever... been lying in wait amidst mountains of corpses and seas of blood, eating enemy flesh when starving, and drinking the blood from your blade when thirsty?"

Wang Zheng's face turned from pale to black, his clenched fists bulged with veins, and his teeth clenched so tightly that they clicked, but he couldn't utter a single word—not because he didn't want to speak, but because fear had gripped his throat.

Chu Qingyue stopped looking at him, turned around, faced the throne, and bowed gracefully to the emperor and empress, whose faces were now ashen. Her posture was elegant, but her straight spine revealed an unyielding and resolute spirit.

"Father, Mother. My heart died the moment I stepped out of the palace seven years ago. Now, all that has returned is an empty shell and a bloodstained knife. For the rest of my life, I only wish to do two things—"

She paused slightly, and the entire hall was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

"First, protect the Great Chu empire." Her voice suddenly rose, carrying the murderous aura of war. "Whoever dares to offend, whether from an enemy state or an internal traitor, I, your son, will personally lead my iron cavalry to annihilate their entire clan, dig up their ancestral graves, and grind their bones to dust."

Upon hearing this, many military officers instinctively straightened their backs, their eyes revealing genuine awe.

Chu Qingyue slowly turned to the side. Her gaze swept over Si Chen, who remained silent with his eyes lowered—his knuckles, gripping the wine glass, were slightly white.

Finally, her gaze returned to the Empress's face. She smiled gently. That smile was breathtakingly beautiful, yet also venomous and soul-crushing:

"Secondly, properly 'repay' those... who were 'good to your son' in the past."

She spoke those last few words very softly and gently, yet they made the Empress tremble all over, and the cup in her hand fell to the ground with a "clatter," breaking in two.

Upon seeing this, a glint of malice flashed in Chu Qingyao's eyes. She gave Pei Jiaojiao a wink.

Pei Jiaojiao understood—Chu Qingyao told her that this was an opportunity given to her by her aunt, the Empress. If she could humiliate Chu Qingyue in public, her position in the Empress's heart would be unmatched in the future.

She suddenly stood up, pointed at Chu Qingyue, and her voice was shrill and piercing:

"Chu Qingyue! Chu Qingyue! Who are you trying to scare with all those harsh words? What do you mean by 'heartbroken'? All those high-sounding words were just a cover-up!"

She raised her chin, displaying the arrogant and reckless arrogance typical of noblewomen.

"Who doesn't know you've been in a place like Beiming for seven years! Countless men have already ruined you! What are you pretending for, this virtuous and ruthless woman? A used flower is a used flower! Let me tell you, in this capital, no, in this whole world, no man will want a woman like you with a tainted body!"

After he finished speaking, the entire hall fell into a deathly silence.