Killer Queen: Tyrant, prepare to die!

Chapter 40 The Drunken Tyrant Breaks into My Bedchamber! He Grabs My Wrist and Asks: Do You Hate Me That Much?

It was the 27th day of the twelfth lunar month, late at night.

The small kitchen in Tangli Palace was still lit.

Shen Qingci rolled up his sleeves and was grinding medicinal herbs with a stone mortar and pestle.

The stone mortar contained dried Bidens pilosa roots, ground into a dark brown powder that gleamed dimly in the candlelight.

Jinshu carefully sliced ​​another medicinal herb, cinnabar tears, into thin slices with a silver knife.

"Your Majesty," Jinshu's voice was very low, "can the toxicity of this Vermilion Tears really neutralize the Bidens pilosa?"

"They cannot neutralize each other." Shen Qingci put down the stone pestle and sifted the powder through a fine silk sieve. "They complement each other."

Bidens pilosa damages the meridians, and cinnabar tears impair the mind.

Each of the two herbs, when used individually, has an antidote. But when combined…

She paused, her eyes turning cold: "It gradually destroys one's meridians and causes a loss of consciousness, yet no signs of poisoning can be detected. It's like... slowly going insane."

Jinshu's hand trembled, and the silver knife almost cut her finger.

Shen Qingci took the silver knife and personally demonstrated: "You must cut it like this, along the grain, and each slice should not be thicker than a sheet of paper. If it's too thick, the medicinal effect will be too strong, and it will be easy for others to detect."

The candlelight flickered, illuminating her focused profile.

This is the third night already.

Ever since she learned that Liu Ruyan was going to use Zhu Yanmo again, Shen Qingci began preparing this "return gift".

She secretly had Physician Chen deliver the medicinal herbs, and also had Eunuch Li give her guidance—although the old man had lost most of his martial arts skills, he still had decades of accumulated knowledge of medicine and poisons.

"Your Majesty," Eunuch Li said in a hoarse voice, sitting on a small stool by the stove, "this old servant will remind you one more time: once this medicine is used, there is no turning back."

Shen Qingci continued, "Master, from the first time Liu Ruyan poisoned me, there was no turning back on this path."

She separated the ground powder and the sliced ​​pieces into two small porcelain bottles.

"Jinshu, remember the proportions. Three parts Bidens pilosa powder, two parts cinnabar tear flakes, mix with yellow wine, air dry for seven days, then grind into powder."

The dosage should not exceed half a qian (approximately 1.5 grams) each time. It should be added to food or drink; it is colorless and tasteless.

Jinshu nodded emphatically and took careful notes in her small notebook.

A muffled clap of thunder suddenly came from outside the window.

It's going to snow.

Just as Shen Qingci put the porcelain bottle away, a series of hurried footsteps came from outside the courtyard.

Then came the eunuch's panicked voice: "Your Majesty! Your Majesty, please slow down..."

"Get out of here!"

It was Nangong Ye's voice, tinged with a strong sense of intoxication.

Shen Qingci's expression changed, and she quickly swept the medicinal herbs on the table into the hidden compartment under the stove.

Jinshu also hurriedly tidied up the stone mortar and silver knife.

Just as I finished tidying up, the kitchen door was pushed open with a "bang".

Nangong Ye stood at the door, his black casual clothes already mostly soaked by the snow.

His face was flushed, his eyes were unfocused, and he was holding an empty wine jug in his hand.

Eunuch Wang followed behind him, sweating profusely with anxiety: "Your Majesty, the Empress has already retired for the night. Please come again tomorrow..."

"Get lost." Nangong Ye said without turning his head.

Wang Gonggong wanted to say something, but was silenced by a single look from Nangong Ye and could only retreat outside the courtyard.

Only three people remained in the kitchen.

Shen Qingci stood still, calmly looking at him: "Your Majesty, what are your orders for arriving so late at night?"

Nangong Ye stared at her for a long time, then suddenly smiled.

His smile looked worse than his tears.

"What are your orders?" He staggered in, reeking of alcohol.

"What do I dare to order you around? I have to be careful what I say even when I enter your house."

Jinshu nervously stood in front of Shen Qingci.

"Jinshu, you can go out first," Shen Qingci said.

"Your Majesty..."

"go out."

Jinshu bit her lip, stepped outside the door, but didn't go far.

Only two people remained in the kitchen.

The candlelight flickered in the wind, casting their shadows long and short.

Nangong Ye walked to the stove and looked at the still steaming medicine pot: "What are you cooking?"

"A calming soup." Shen Qingci said without changing his expression, "Bao'er doesn't sleep well at night."

"Calming soup..." Nangong Ye murmured repeatedly, then suddenly reached out to lift the lid of the medicine pot.

Shen Qingci's heart tightened.

The medicine pot did indeed contain calming soup—a cover-up she had prepared in advance.

But if Nangong Ye took just two more steps forward and kicked the mechanism under the stove...

"Your Majesty," she stepped forward, blocking his way, "it's late, you should go back and rest."

Nangong Ye looked down at her.

His eyes were complex, filled with pain, confusion, and a hint of almost humble pleading.

"Qingci," he suddenly grabbed her wrist with astonishing strength, "do you hate me that much?"

Shen Qingci felt a sharp pain in her wrist, but she did not struggle.

She looked up, meeting his eyes directly: "What does Your Majesty think?"

"I know..."

Nangong Ye's voice trembled.

"I know you hate me."

But back then... back then the evidence was conclusive!

The sorcerer was found under your bed, and the secret letter was found in your maid's room!

The entire court is watching, I am the emperor... I cannot gamble!

He became more and more excited as he spoke, and his grip tightened.

Shen Qingci felt as if her wrist bones were about to be crushed.

But the expression on her face remained unchanged.

"So it's better to kill the innocent than to kill the guilty?"

She spoke each word clearly, her voice as cold as ice.

"Your Majesty, your refusal to gamble has ruined my life, destroyed my entire Shen family, and almost destroyed your own son."

"No!" Nangong Ye roared, "I didn't know you were pregnant! If I had known..."

"If you knew, would you believe me?"

Shen Qingci interrupted him.

"If you knew, would you believe that Shen Qingci, whom you once described as 'well-educated, reasonable, gentle, and virtuous,' wouldn't use witchcraft to curse you?"

Nangong Ye froze.

His lips moved, but no sound came out.

"You wouldn't," Shen Qingci answered for him.

"Because in your heart, imperial power is always above all else."

Above trust, above feelings, and above... the truth.

She forcefully pulled her hand back.

A ring of purplish-blue finger marks had already been left on my wrist.

Looking at the marks, Nangong Ye reacted as if he had been burned, abruptly releasing his grip and staggering back two steps.

"No..." He shook his head, his eyes unfocused. "It's not like that... I just... I just can't take the risk..."

"And what is His Majesty doing now?" Shen Qingci asked. "Breaking into my palace in the dead of night, drunkenly questioning me—is this your idea of ​​not taking risks?"

She walked to the door and pushed it open.

A cold wind carrying snowflakes rushed in, causing the candlelight to flicker violently.

"Your Majesty, please return," she said. "Bao'er is still waiting for me."

Nangong Ye stood in the center of the kitchen, snowflakes falling on his shoulders and quickly melting into water stains.

He looked at her for a very long time, so long that Shen Qingci thought he was about to say something.

But in the end he didn't say anything.

She simply turned around and staggered away from the kitchen, step by step.

His figure looked particularly desolate in the wind and snow, like a pine tree with its spine bent under the weight of the snow.

Jinshu quietly entered and, upon seeing the injury on Shen Qingci's wrist, gasped, "Your Majesty, your hand..."

"It's nothing." Shen Qingci looked down, her eyes completely calm. "Go get the first-aid kit."

"Yes."

Jinshu left in a hurry.

Shen Qingci walked to the stove, squatted down, opened the hidden compartment, and confirmed that the medicinal herbs were safe and sound.

Then she stood up and walked to the window.

Outside the courtyard, Nangong Ye's figure had already disappeared into the wind and snow.

Only a series of crooked footprints stretched from the kitchen doorway to the yard, where they were quickly covered by fresh snow.

She raised her hand and gently touched the red mark on her wrist.

pain.

But it's not as bad as the fire before the Lunar New Year.

It couldn't compare to the countless nights of hunger and cold spent in the cold palace.

It pales in comparison to the fear that Bao'er almost burned to death in her swaddling clothes.

"Hate?" she murmured to herself. "If it were just hate, it would be simple."

Jinshu returned with the medicine box and carefully applied the medicine to her.

"Your Majesty," Jinshu whispered, "His Majesty... seems to be in real pain."

"Pain is the beginning of atonement." Shen Qingci looked out the window as snowflakes fell one by one. "But atonement doesn't necessarily bring forgiveness."

The ointment felt cool and refreshing when applied to the wound.

Shen Qingci closed her eyes, and some images floated into her mind—

On their wedding night, the look of amazement that flashed in his eyes when he lifted the veil.

In the Imperial Garden, he held her hand from behind as he taught her to shoot arrows.

And... during the fire in the Cold Palace, when he rushed in and picked her and Bao'er up, the panic and regret in his eyes for a fleeting moment.

She suddenly opened her eyes.

"Jinshu," her voice regained its calm, "go to the Imperial Hospital first thing tomorrow morning to see Physician Chen. Tell him I sprained my wrist and ask him to prescribe some medicine to improve blood circulation and remove blood stasis."

Jinshu was taken aback: "Your Majesty, what's wrong...?"

"If you're going to put on a show, you have to go all the way."

Shen Qingci said calmly,

"His Majesty came tonight, and someone will definitely come to inquire tomorrow."

Let them see the scar on my wrist, let them guess, let them spread rumors.

"This servant understands."

After Jinshu finished applying the medicine and tidying up her medicine box, she asked worriedly, "What about preparing the medicine...?"

"Continue." Shen Qingci turned and walked back to the stove. "Liu Ruyan won't give up just because of a snowfall. We need to be faster than her."

She took out the porcelain bottle again and began to mix the ingredients.

The candlelight cast her shadow on the wall, resolute and determined.

Outside the window, the snow was falling heavier and heavier.

Meanwhile, at the other end of the palace, in the Hall of Mental Cultivation, Nangong Ye sat in the empty hall.

Facing the flickering candlelight, he stroked the deformed longevity lock in his hand again and again.

On the lock, the three characters "Nangong Yue" gleamed with a golden luster under the candlelight.

He recalled the fleeting pain in her eyes when he held her wrist at Tangli Palace earlier.

And that sentence she said—

"Your inability to gamble ruined my life."

"Your Majesty," Eunuch Wang stepped forward cautiously, "it's late, you should rest."

Nangong Ye did not move.

After a long silence, he asked in a low voice, "Wang Dequan, tell me... am I really wrong?"

The eunuch Wang was so frightened that he knelt down on the ground: "Your Majesty is wise, how could you be wrong..."

"Wise?" Nangong Ye laughed, his laughter filled with bitterness. "What kind of wise emperor is one who can't even protect his own wife and children?"

He gripped the longevity lock tightly, its sharp edges digging into his palm and causing a sharp pain.

But this pain is nothing compared to even a fraction of the pain in my heart.

That night, the candlelight in the Hall of Mental Cultivation burned until dawn.

In the small kitchen of Tangli Palace, the candlelight burned until dawn.