Killer Queen: Tyrant, prepare to die!

Chapter 54 The tyrant kneels in the rain for the funeral, but the coffin is empty!

Empress Xiaoyi's funeral is scheduled for three days from now.

It started raining early that morning. At first, it was just a light drizzle, but by the time of the funeral, it had turned into a torrential downpour.

The sky was so overcast it looked like it was about to collapse, and the rain curtain stretched into a white expanse. The water on the palace road was ankle-deep.

But Nangong Ye insisted on having the funeral conducted at the highest level.

The coffin, carried by eighty-one people, was made of the finest golden nanmu wood, and the outer coffin was carved with phoenix patterns—a custom originally reserved for the emperor and empress.

The funeral procession exited from the main gate of the palace and headed towards the imperial mausoleum in the western mountains. People knelt along the streets, and white banners hung wet in the rain.

Nangong Ye walked at the very front of the coffin.

He carried no umbrella, wore no raincoat, and was dressed in plain white mourning clothes, his bare feet treading in the cold rain.

The rain soaked him completely, his long hair plastered to his face, but he seemed oblivious to the cold, walking with remarkable steadiness.

"Your Majesty! Your Majesty's health is of utmost importance!" The head eunuch cried as he chased after him, holding an umbrella.

"Get lost." Nangong Ye didn't even look at him.

Xuan Ying silently followed three steps behind, also without an umbrella.

He knew he couldn't persuade him—ever since that night at Tangli Palace, His Majesty had become a different person.

He wouldn't eat or sleep, and spent his days clutching that already stiff corpse, smashing anyone who tried to persuade him.

The rain intensified halfway through the journey of the coffin.

Thunder rumbled and lightning tore through the sky.

The guards carrying the coffin slipped, and the coffin swayed heavily—

"Watch out!" someone exclaimed.

Nangong Ye turned around abruptly and almost instantly lunged to the coffin, using his body to brace against the tilting coffin.

Rainwater streamed down his pale face.

He gritted his teeth, his arm veins bulging, and managed to stabilize the coffin, which weighed over a thousand pounds.

"His Majesty's hand—" Someone saw that his palm was cut by a splinter, and blood was dripping down mixed with rainwater.

Nangong Ye seemed oblivious, staring only at the coffin, his voice hoarse: "Keep going."

The group moved forward again.

He was still walking at the front, blood dripping from his fingertips into the rain, spreading into a pale red stain.

Behind them, eighty-one people carried the heavy coffin, struggling forward in the torrential rain.

This scene was witnessed by countless people on the street.

Someone sobbed softly, "Your Majesty... Your Majesty is truly heartbroken."

"I heard that Empress Xiaoyi was innocent..."

"Sigh, if only I had known this would happen, I wouldn't have done it in the first place."

Whispers drifted away on the wind amidst the sound of rain.

---

Xishan Imperial Mausoleum.

The coffin was slowly lowered into the depths of the mausoleum. Nangong Ye stood by the tomb, looking at the coffin carved with phoenixes, and suddenly spoke: "Open the coffin."

Everyone was stunned.

"Your Majesty, this...this is not in accordance with the rules!" the Vice Minister of Rites pleaded in a trembling voice.

"I say, open the coffin." Nangong Ye turned his head, his eyes bloodshot.

No one dared to speak again.

Several guards stepped forward and laboriously pried open the newly driven coffin nails. The moment the coffin lid was lifted, Nangong Ye pushed aside the crowd and rushed to the side of the coffin.

Inside, there lay that same pale, gray face.

She was dressed in the empress's court attire, wearing a phoenix crown, her hands folded in front of her chest, as quiet as if she were asleep. But her bloodless lips and tightly closed eyes told him—she was not asleep.

He is dead.

"Qingci..." Nangong Ye reached out to touch her face, his fingertips trembling, "Look at me again... just once..."

Of course, there was no response.

He remained in that position, standing in the downpour for a very long time. The rain lashed against his back, splashing up tiny droplets, but he was completely unaware.

Xuan Ying finally couldn't hold back any longer and stepped forward: "Your Majesty, it's time to seal the coffin. The Empress... should be laid to rest."

Nangong Ye seemed to be stung by these words and suddenly looked up.

He looked at the person in the coffin, then at the ministers and guards kneeling all around him, and suddenly laughed.

The laughter was low, yet it sent chills down your spine.

"To be laid to rest in peace?" he murmured. "How could she be at peace? She hated me to the core; she won't find peace even in death..."

"His Majesty--"

"Let's seal the coffin." Nangong Ye interrupted Xuan Ying, took one last look at the person in the coffin, and turned away.

The coffin lid was closed again and nailed shut.

The soil was shoveled into the grave.

Nangong Ye stood in the rain, watching the pit being filled in little by little, watching the stone tablet being erected, and watching the words "Tomb of Empress Xiaoyi Shen Qingci" being washed away by the rain.

Until the last shovelful of soil fell.

He was still standing.

The rain showed no sign of stopping, and the sky gradually darkened. The ministers' knees were numb from kneeling, but no one dared to move.

Two hours.

Nangong Ye stood in the torrential rain for two hours, soaked to the bone, his face as white as paper, his lips frozen purple. Yet his back remained ramrod straight, his eyes fixed intently on the new grave.

It's as if they want to etch this scene into their very bones.

In the end, Xuan Ying carried him back on his back—because His Majesty had just turned to leave when he collapsed straight down.

Before losing consciousness, he clutched Xuan Ying's clothes and whispered something in a weak voice:

"She really... doesn't want me anymore."

---

At the same time, fifty miles outside Beijing, at Shen Family Farm.

Sunlight streamed in through the window, making it feel warm and cozy.

When Shen Qingci opened her eyes, she was momentarily dazed.

She lay on a clean wooden bed, covered with a plain floral quilt. The room was small, but tidy. The sound of roosters crowing and faint voices could be heard outside the window.

"woke up?"

Eunuch Li—no, he should be called Uncle Fu now—came in carrying a bowl of medicine. His hunched back straightened a bit, the wrinkles on his face seemed to have lessened, and his voice was no longer so hoarse, making him look like an ordinary old steward.

"Master..." Shen Qingci tried to sit up, but her body was too weak.

"Don't move." Uncle Fu pressed her down. "The effects of the tortoise-breathing powder have just worn off, and you're still weak. Drink the medicine first."

Shen Qingci took the bowl of medicine and drank it all in one gulp. The bitter taste spread on her tongue, but she felt it was incredibly real—this was the taste of being alive.

"Where's Bao'er?" she asked urgently.

"Jinshu is holding her outside." Uncle Fu's eyes lit up with a smile. "That child didn't cry or fuss the whole way; she was very well-behaved."

Just then, the door was pushed open.

Jinshu walked in carrying a tiny swaddled baby, her eyes still red, but a smile played on her lips: "Your Majesty, you're awake!"

Shen Qingci's gaze fell on the swaddling clothes.

Jinshu understood and carefully placed the child in her arms.

Bao'er is asleep. His little face is rosy, his eyelashes are long and thick, his little mouth is slightly open, and his breathing is even. He is a little chubby than when he was in the palace, and although he is wearing coarse cloth clothes, he looks even more adorable.

Shen Qingci's hands were trembling.

She gently touched Bao'er's cheek; it was warm and soft. The little one stirred in his sleep, clenched his little fists, and then drifted back to sleep peacefully.

"Bao'er..." her voice choked with sobs, "Mother's here... Mother's here..."

Tears rolled down unexpectedly, dripping onto Bao'er's little face.

Bao'er wrinkled her little nose, but didn't wake up.

"Your Highness, please don't cry," Jinshu said, wiping away her own tears. "The young master is alright. We're all out now. From now on... everything will be alright."

Shen Qingci nodded emphatically and pressed his face against Bao'er's forehead.

Yes, it's out.

He emerged from that cannibalistic palace, from those endless conspiracies and schemes, from the control of that man.

"Bao'er," she whispered, each word trembling with the relief of surviving a catastrophe, "Mother is free. You are free too."

From now on, no one can use their status to oppress her, use imperial power to confine her, or use those ridiculous rules to bind her.

She is Ye Huang.

The phoenix, reborn from the ashes, should now soar high above the heavens.

Uncle Fu spoke up at the right moment: "Miss, now that you're awake, there are some things that need to be settled."

He changed his address to "Miss" instead of "Empress".

Shen Qingci raised her head, her eyes now calm again: "Master, please speak."

"First, identity," Uncle Fu said. "This old servant has disguised himself; to outsiders, he's just an old steward surnamed Fu. Jinshu is your personal maid. As for you, young lady—"

He paused for a moment: "She is the widow of a wealthy merchant from Jiangnan. Her surname is Ye, and her given name is Huang. Because her husband died early, she came to the capital with her young son and old servant to seek refuge with relatives. However, she could not find her relatives, so she stayed temporarily in the suburbs of the capital."

Night Phoenix.

Shen Qingci silently recited the name in her heart.

From this day forward, Shen Qingci is dead, and Empress Xiaoyi has been buried. The one who lives is Ye Huang.

"Secondly, where to go," Uncle Fu continued. "We can't stay in the capital for long. This old servant has made arrangements. We will set off south for Hangzhou in three days. There are several properties left by the late Empress Dowager there, in secluded locations, suitable for settling down."

"Third," he looked at Bao'er, "the young master is too young, and the bumpy journey might be too much for him. This old servant has found a reliable wet nurse who will arrive tomorrow. In addition, Shen Fu will be secretly protecting you. He was trained by this old servant, and his martial arts skills are not weak. He is loyal and reliable."

Shen Qingci wrote them down one by one.

She looked down at the baby in her arms; the little one was sleeping soundly, completely unaware of what had happened.

"Bao'er..." she whispered, "From now on, you will be called Ye Yue. Yue means a divine pearl from heaven. I wish you a life of bright light and brilliance, never again tainted by the filth of this world."

Jinshu smiled, her eyes red-rimmed: "Ye Yue... sounds beautiful."

Uncle Fu also showed a look of relief.

The sun shines brightly outside the window, a hen clucks in the yard, and children play in the distance. Ordinary, mundane, yet full of life.

This is a vibrant energy that can never be found in the palace.

Shen Qingci held Bao'er in her arms, gazing at the free sky outside the window, and slowly raised the corners of her lips.

Nangong Ye, do you think this game is over?

No.

just began.

When I return, I won't be the Shen Qingci you can manipulate at will.