Killer Queen: Tyrant, prepare to die!

Chapter 50 Tonight, the Tyrant's White Moonlight Has Gone Mad!

It was past midnight, but the lights in Tangli Palace were still on.

Shen Qingci stood by the window, holding Bao'er in her arms.

The child was sleeping soundly, her little hand still clutching a strand of her hair, her little mouth slightly pouting, occasionally letting out soft humming sounds.

The moonlight outside the window was cold and clear. Beyond the layers of palace eaves, a faint light could be seen coming from the direction of the Hall of Mental Cultivation—he was still awake.

Her fingers gently stroked Bao'er's delicate cheek.

She snatched this child back from hell.

From the inferno in the Cold Palace to Consort Rou's treacherous scheme, and then to every anxious day and night of the past six months.

She practiced her skills until she vomited blood, prepared medicine until her fingertips ulcerated, and laid out plans until she was exhausted—all of this was for the warmth she held in her arms at this moment.

"Baby," she whispered, her voice so soft that only she could hear it, "Mother will be able to take you away soon. To a place without intrigue or scheming."

Bao'er stirred in her sleep, nuzzling her little head against her chest.

Shen Qingci's gaze gradually turned cold.

She looked up and gazed once more in the direction of the Hall of Mental Cultivation.

Nangong Ye.

The name rolled across her tongue, carrying a rusty, bloody taste.

Last year, he personally pushed her into hell. Now he thinks a few tears, a bit of guilt, and a few boxes of gifts can make up for everything?

too naive.

"Our game is only just beginning," she said, emphasizing each word as she spoke into the night.

It wasn't a roar, it wasn't a curse.

It was a calm declaration.

Like an assassin confirming the target's location before taking action.

---

Huayang Palace. Under house arrest.

"Clang—!"

Another celadon vase smashed on the ground, shards flying everywhere.

Liu Ruyan had disheveled hair, bloodshot eyes, and her gorgeous clothes were torn and in disarray.

She grabbed the jewelry box from the dressing table and smashed it against the wall!

Pearls, jade, gemstones... all rolled and tumbled on the ground.

"Your Majesty! Your Majesty, please calm your anger!" The trusted palace maid knelt on the ground, weeping and kowtowing. "If His Majesty finds out about this..."

"Your Majesty?" Liu Ruyan sneered, her voice as piercing as a night owl's, "Your Majesty's mind is filled with nothing but that vile woman! That ghost who crawled out of the Cold Palace!"

She stumbled and fell to the bronze mirror. The woman in the mirror had a ferocious face, and the fine lines at the corners of her eyes were clearly visible in the candlelight.

She was only twenty-three years old.

In the past three years, Nangong Ye has touched her only a handful of times. Each time, it felt like he was completing a task. He looked at her, but his eyes were empty—completely empty!

And what about Shen Qingci?

She gave birth to a bastard child, yet His Majesty still can't forget her!

"Shen Qingci..." Liu Ruyan gripped the edge of the dressing table so tightly that her nails broke and bled.

"What right do you have? What right do you have to keep haunting us even after you've died?!"

"What right do you have to come back to life and steal my things?!"

That's hers!

The Empress's throne is hers! His Majesty's heart is hers! The most honorable position for a woman in the world belongs to her!

"I want you dead..." she gasped, her eyes blazing with madness. "I must kill you... and that little bastard... they both have to die..."

The palace maid was so frightened that she trembled and dared not reply.

Outside the hall, the two eunuchs guarding the gate exchanged a glance and silently took a half step back.

The one inside must have really gone mad.

---

The Hall of Mental Cultivation. Drinking alone under the moon.

Nangong Ye was not wearing a dragon robe, but only a black casual robe, sitting on the stone steps in front of the hall. Three or four empty wine jugs were scattered at his feet.

Xuan Ying stood silently in the shadows, like a stone statue.

Another glass of strong liquor went down my throat.

The burning sensation spread from my throat all the way to my stomach, but it couldn't suppress the empty coldness in my heart.

He closed his eyes.

The sea of ​​fire reappeared before my eyes.

Soaring flames, billowing smoke, the deafening crash of collapsing beams... and then he saw her.

She stood in the fire, her tattered palace dress soaked in blood and sweat, her hair disheveled and plastered to her face.

But her eyes shone with an astonishing light—not tears, but ice, a knife, a poisoned hatred.

She was holding a baby tightly in her arms.

So small, so fragile, yet its cries were loud.

The child's eyebrows and eyes... resemble his.

At that moment, something shattered inside his chest.

"Your Majesty," Xuan Ying suddenly spoke, his voice low, "it's late, time to rest."

Nangong Ye didn't open his eyes, but poured himself another glass of wine.

"Mysterious Shadow".

"Your subject is here."

"You said..." his voice was hoarse, "How much hatred must someone have to feel to look at someone like that?"

Xuan Ying remained silent.

"When she looked at me, it was as if she were looking at a dead man."

Nangong Ye laughed, his laughter filled with self-mockery.

"No, it's worse than looking at a dead person. At least the dead are a relief in her eyes, but I... am a filthy thing that doesn't even deserve to die."

He downed another glass of wine.

Images of a sea of ​​fire flooded the screen once again.

This time, he saw his own back as he turned to leave the cold palace.

Upon receiving irrefutable evidence, he ordered the empress to be deposed, without seeing her one last time.

What was he thinking at that time?

He thought about the political situation, about checks and balances, about the power of the Liu family, and about the majesty of the emperor.

The only thing I never considered was—what if she really was innocent?

"I was wrong..." he murmured, his fingers tightening, the wine glass shattering softly. "Was I really... wrong?"

Xuan Ying lowered her eyes.

He couldn't answer that question.

The cold moonlight shone on the emperor's lonely back.

---

A farm on the outskirts of Beijing. An oil lamp flickers dimly.

Shen Anbang's hands trembled as he opened the secret letter.

The letter was very short, containing only eight characters, using a code he and his daughter had created when they were children:

[To be carried out in three days. Father, take care.]

A small, crooked plum blossom was drawn in the back—that was the first time Qingqing learned to draw it when she was six years old.

"Master..." the old servant Shen Fu said, his eyes red-rimmed, "Miss, she..."

"She's still alive," Shen Anbang's voice choked. "She's really coming back."

Suffering in the cold palace, I dreamt of her crying and calling for her father to save her, and of her lying emaciated on a tattered mat, lifeless.

Every time I wake up, my pillowcase is wet.

He was a leader of the upright officials, a literary giant of the land, yet he couldn't even protect his own daughter. What use were those official robes and his vast knowledge?

"Qingqing..." He stroked the small plum blossom, tears streaming down his face, "Father is waiting for you to come back."

"Wait until your father helps you, and drags all those who harmed you... one by one, into hell."

The oil lamp popped and emitted a spark.

It reflected a ruthlessness never before seen in the old man's eyes.

---

Tangli Palace. Early morning of the Yin hour.

Shen Qingci changed into a set of night clothes.

The fabric is specially made; it absorbs light, is breathable, and moves silently.

She tied her long hair up high and secured it with an ebony hairpin. Her face was covered with a black cloth, revealing only her eyes.

Calm, sharp, without a trace of superfluous emotion.

Jinshu stood at the door of the inner room, holding Bao'er in her arms. Her eyes were red, but she bit her lip and dared not cry out.

"Your Majesty... please be very careful."

"Proceed according to plan."

Shen Qingci walked up to her, looked down at Bao'er who was still fast asleep,

I reached out and gently touched his little face.

"If I haven't returned by noon tomorrow, take Bao'er and leave through the secret passage. Eunuch Li will be waiting for you outside the city."

"The Empress will definitely come back!" Jinshu said anxiously.

Shen Qingci smiled but didn't say anything.

She took out the jade ring left by the late Empress Dowager from under her pillow and carefully put it away. She then checked the hidden dart in her sleeve, the soft sword at her waist, and the dagger in her boot.

Every weapon was poisoned.

It can kill instantly upon contact with blood.

Finally, she walked to the window and pushed it open a crack.

The night was deep, and the palace walls lay prostrate like a giant beast.

Wangjiang Tower is located in the southeast of the city, and the outline of its flying eaves is faintly visible under the moonlight.

There are the late Empress Dowager's last gifts.

It could also be... a trap set by Liu Chengming.

"The Brocade Letter".

"This servant is here."

"If I don't come back," Shen Qingci turned around, her gaze falling on Bao'er's face, "tell Bao'er that his mother... has never regretted giving birth to him."

Jinshu could no longer hold back her tears, which streamed down her face: "Your Majesty!"

Shen Qingci had already turned around.

She pushed open the window, her figure darting out as lightly as an owl, disappearing between the palace eaves in a few leaps.

The night breeze lifted a stray strand of hair from her temple.

Moonlight shone into her cold pupils.

Night Phoenix, it's time to spread your wings.