After being reborn, the aloof prime minister was once again forced by a tyrant.

Xie Qinglan died on the finest day of mid-spring.

The windows of Lanyue Pavilion were half-open, and the iron eaves clattered all day long, like someone playing an endless funeral dirge.

Spring light filtered through the carved latticework, slanting across the scarlet brocade felt, while dust swirled within the beams of light.

The palace servants walked very quietly in the corridor, and a few words of gossip drifted in on the wind—His Majesty has left the palace to buy osmanthus cakes for Consort Xie in the south of the city.

Xie Qinglan had tasted the osmanthus cake from the south of the city once.

Last autumn, Xiao Jingyuan rushed in excitedly after finishing the morning court session, carrying an oil paper package in his arms, which was still steaming when he opened it.

He pushed the oil paper package onto the table, his eyes shining brightly.

"Qinglan, you should try it. That kid Xiao Jingchen said this place in the south of the city is the most authentic. You'll definitely like it."

Xie Qinglan picked up a small piece with her silver chopsticks. The sweet aroma wafted over her tongue, and the cake was soft and chewy without sticking to her teeth—it was cooked to perfection.

He put down his chopsticks and said calmly, "It's still edible."

After saying that, he got up and went into the study, without looking back a second time.

He knew, of course, that this cake was hard-won.

I heard Gao An talking about it early in the morning, saying that His Majesty left the palace before dawn to queue up. It was hard to get a first roast cake from the old shop in the south of the city. It took almost an hour to go back and forth from the palace gate to the shop. The cake was still steaming hot. I guess he carried it in the inner lapel of his court robe when he went to court, for fear that it would get cold.

He knows everything, but he just won't back down.

I haven't even settled the score with him from last night, and he thinks he can just let it go with a piece of osmanthus cake? There's no such thing as a free lunch.

This person tormented him again last night, so today he's trying to win him over. Once he's appeased, he'll inevitably start pestering him again.

He, the dignified Prime Minister of Nanyue, was imprisoned in this deep, high-roofed chamber by the Emperor of Beishuo, given the inappropriate title of "Consort Xie," making him seem like a forbidden plaything. Who knows what rumors would circulate outside, saying that he, Xie Qinglan, had fallen into the trap of using his beauty to serve the emperor.

This feeling has been stuck in my throat for three years; I can't swallow it, and I can't yield even a little bit.

He was only brought back to his senses when the aroma of tea wafted up from the table.

Pei Yuning held the teapot, pouring the emerald green tea into the celadon cup, the white mist as fine as a wisp of smoke.

"Brother Qinglan, this is the new tribute snow-capped jade tea. Your brother said you love it, so I brewed it for you myself."

Snow-capped peaks are verdant, and Mount Heng yields three catties annually.

One pound was sent to the palace, one pound was bestowed upon princes and dukes, and the remaining pound was always sent to the Prime Minister's residence.

The tea in Pei Yuning's hand must have been sent to her by Pei Nanchi from afar.

She probably didn't know that this tea was served every day at Lan Yue Pavilion, and it was piling up on the table and almost getting stale. She didn't know how much effort Xiao Jingyuan had put into getting it.

Xie Qinglan looked up and glanced over.

Pei Yuning was dressed in a pale yellow palace gown, with a weeping crabapple blossom tucked behind her ear. Her gentle smile was exactly the same as it had been three years ago.

But now he doesn't know how to deal with it—three years ago he was the Prime Minister of Nanyue, and she was the Princess of Nanyue; now she is Consort Ning in the harem of Beishuo, and he has absurdly become "Consort Xie" in the same rank.

The words were on the tip of my tongue, but I didn't know where to begin.

Xiao Jingyuan had locked him up for three years and never let anyone else into Lan Yue Pavilion. Why would he finally open up today? Could it be that he's going to pull some trick again, using sweet tea as a prelude?

Xie Qinglan pondered for a moment, then picked up the teacup and drank it all in one gulp.

The tea soup enters the stomach, first bringing a warm feeling that then spreads through the blood vessels to the limbs and bones.

In just a moment, Xie Qinglan sensed something was wrong. He frowned and secretly tried to gather his inner strength—but his dantian was empty, like a dry well that had been drained, and he couldn't gather even a trace of energy.

The knuckles suddenly tightened.

The celadon cup crackled open with a "click," and tea trickled down between the fingers, leaving dark stains on the moon-white robe.

The warmth instantly turned into a burning pain, like a red-hot iron rod piercing into the internal organs, churning inch by inch.

Xie Qinglan exclaimed in disbelief, "You poisoned me?!"

Black blood spilled from the corner of his lips, dripping onto the scarlet brocade felt, settling like ink that could not be dissolved.

Pei Yuning sat motionless, watching the color drain from his face inch by inch. The gentle smile slowly faded, leaving behind the resentment that had seeped into his eyes for three years, which remained stubbornly there.

"At midnight." Xie Qinglan's voice was hoarse and strained, black blood trickling down his chin. "He really went all out."

The third watch of the night, a secret poison passed down by the royal family of Nanyue, is named after the saying "when the moon passes the third watch, life ends and the lamp dies." It is colorless and odorless, dissipates upon entering the stomach, and can deplete one's life's internal energy. Within three quarters of an hour of ingestion, one will bleed from all seven orifices and die.

Only three doses remain in the world, hidden in the imperial treasury, and no one but the emperor can obtain them.

"My brother took it personally from the secret vault," Pei Yuning said softly. "He said that nothing else is worthy of Qinglan-gege's status."

Xie Qinglan felt as if her internal organs were being crushed by an iron hand, and the pain made her fingertips go numb.

He struggled to lift his eyes, his vision blurred, but he could still see the glee in Pei Yuning's eyes—it was the hatred that had been brewing for three years, seeping into her bones.

"Why?" The three words lingered in his throat, accompanied by blood and froth.

"His achievements are so great that they threaten the emperor's authority." Pei Yuning said, emphasizing each word. "Qinglan-gege understands these four words better than I do."

Xie Qinglan certainly understood.

He supported the young emperor's ascension to the throne at the age of sixteen, quelled the Rebellion of the Three Kings at the age of eighteen, became prime minister at the age of twenty-two, and held immense power at the age of twenty-six.

He transformed the precarious Nanyue into a powerful state that even the Northern Shuo dared not easily offend; he taught that child who grew up in the cold palace to read and wield power, and told him that a ruler should prioritize the country and that life and death should be governed by law.

He considered himself a loyal minister and a pillar of strength. But in the emperor's eyes, he was a sword hanging over the dragon throne.

Historically, those who achieve great merit and overshadow their superiors have never had a good ending.

It wasn't that he didn't understand; it's just that he had believed in the bond between ruler and subject for ten years, and always thought it wouldn't come to this.

"Nanyue is too small to accommodate a prime minister who is more popular with the people than the emperor."

Pei Yuning leaned down, her voice as soft as if soothing someone to sleep, but the sharp edge was hidden in her words: "You reformed the bureaucracy, yet the people only knew Prime Minister Xie and not the Emperor; you strengthened the military, yet the entire army followed your lead; you implemented new policies, yet the entire court acted according to your wishes. My brother, sitting on the dragon throne, is like a mere decoration."

She paused, then said in an even softer tone, "So this marriage alliance was a setup for you from the very beginning."

Xie Qinglan's breathing became rapid, and blood-tinged foam gushed from the corner of her lips.

Pei Yuning's lips curled into a mocking smile: "Why did the Emperor send you to escort the bride? All the military generals and officials of the Ministry of Rites volunteered; who among them wouldn't be more suitable than you to be the bride's envoy?"

Xie Qinglan's voice was extremely soft, each word laced with blood: "He sent me here to take the opportunity to get rid of me. But why... wait until now?"

Pei Yuning curved her lips into a smile, but the smile didn't reach her eyes: "The original plan was to finish you off on the way to the marriage alliance. Have you forgotten the thirty assassins from Eagle's Sorrow Gorge?"

She sighed softly, as if genuinely regretful, but a hint of satisfaction flickered in the corner of her eye: "It's a pity your martial arts are too high; even after being poisoned, you managed to break through the encirclement. There's no other way; I'll have to take matters into my own hands."

Xie Qinglan's fingertips felt cold.

On the eve of his departure, Pei Nanchi personally poured wine in the imperial study, his eyes red with tears, and said, "Prime Minister, take care. I will wait for you to return."

He patted the young emperor on the shoulder and said, "Your Majesty, rest assured, I will ensure the princess's safety and forge an alliance."

It turned out that the farewell wine was laced with a slow-acting potion to weaken his internal energy, making it easier for the assassins from Eagle Sorrow Gorge to succeed.

No wonder he always felt a slight stagnation in his internal energy. Xiao Jingyuan had the imperial physicians examine his pulse many times, but they couldn't find anything wrong with it. Moreover, he had been safe and sound for the past three years.

Before he could think it through, Pei Yuning had already straightened up, straightened her sleeves, and her tone suddenly turned cold.

"My brother has his reasons for wanting to kill you. I have mine too."