I was to be executed by Zhu Yuanzhang, and Empress Ma smashed Zhu Yuanzhang's jade seal.

To destroy their spirit!

This is truly devastating!

Zhu Yuanzhang felt as if every word in these letters was a red-hot knife, stabbing his heart and twisting it back and forth!

He was looking for evidence of treason.

But what he found was his own son, a burning, loyal and patriotic heart!

He wanted to prove himself right.

But these letters were like resounding slaps to his face, telling him that he was wrong, and how terribly wrong he was!

"No...it's impossible..."

Zhu Yuanzhang, utterly dejected, threw the last letter on the ground.

He couldn't believe that this was the "evidence" he had painstakingly sought to find.

Everyone in the entire hall was looking at him, at his deathly pale face, and at the letters scattered at his feet.

No one speaks.

But those gazes, whether filled with sorrow, anger, disappointment, or pity, were like countless steel needles, piercing Zhu Yuanzhang's body until he was completely battered.

He felt like a clown who had been stripped naked, standing bare before everyone.

All his pretense and excuses seem so pale and ridiculous in the face of these words in black and white.

"Father..."

Zhu Biao's voice, trembling and choked with sobs, rang out.

He walked step by step, with great difficulty, to stand before Zhu Yuanzhang.

Then, he slowly knelt down.

He didn't look at his father, but instead reached out with trembling hands and carefully picked up the scattered letters on the ground, one by one.

Every time he picked up a letter, tears would uncontrollably stream down his face.

He had received all of these letters.

He replied to them all.

He always thought it was just a normal correspondence between the brothers.

But only today did he realize how profound his fifth brother's feelings were for him, his eldest brother, and for the country.

But he could only watch helplessly as his good younger brother was driven to a dead end by his own father, the emperor.

"Fifth brother... it's my fault... it's my fault for being useless..."

Zhu Biao held the letters as if they were rare treasures and wept bitterly.

The cries were filled with regret, self-blame, and a deep despair for this heartless imperial family.

Zhu Biao's cries were like an awl, piercing the hearts of everyone present.

Especially Zhu Yuanzhang.

He looked at the crown prince kneeling before him, weeping like a child, and at the letters he held in his arms. He felt as if a huge gash had been torn open in his heart, bleeding profusely.

He wanted to say something, to comfort his son.

However, when he opened his mouth, something blocked his throat, and he couldn't utter a single word.

What could he say?

Say we didn't do it on purpose?

Are you saying we're also doing this for the sake of the country and its people?

These words seem so hypocritical and so powerless in the face of those letters written in black and white.

How can he, as a father, have the face to face his own son?

Just then, Jiang Huan, who had been silent all along, spoke up again.

His voice was lower and heavier than before.

"Your Majesty... Your subject... There is one more thing that was found under His Highness the Prince of England's pillow."

All eyes were once again focused on Jiang Huan.

Then he took something out of his pocket.

It was a small wooden box carefully wrapped in bright yellow silk.

Upon seeing the bright yellow silk, Zhu Yuanzhang's pupils suddenly contracted.

That was an item reserved for the royal family.

Zhu Muying actually hid this kind of thing under her pillow?

Is it...

Is there still a chance for things to turn around?

Could it be that the real evidence is hidden in this wooden box?

An absurd idea, uncontrollably, popped into Zhu Yuanzhang's mind.

Almost instinctively, he screamed hoarsely, "Open it! Open it now!"

Jiang Huan did not move.

He merely raised his head, glanced at Crown Prince Zhu Biao kneeling on the ground, weeping uncontrollably, and then at Empress Ma, who was holding her son's corpse, her face ashen.

A look of reluctance and struggle flashed in his eyes.

"Jiang Huan! Are you deaf?! We'll let you open it!"

Seeing that he did not move, Zhu Yuanzhang let out another beastly roar.

Jiang Huan closed her eyes and made a difficult decision.

He slowly opened the wooden box.

Jiang Huan slowly pulled open the bright yellow silk cloth with her fingertips, revealing only a smooth, polished peach wood comb lying quietly. The comb teeth were polished to a warm luster, and the back of the comb was delicately carved with twin lotus flowers.

The cinnabar color remains bright despite the passage of time, with no trace of the secret letter of treason or military diagrams.

The room fell silent. Zhu Yuanzhang, who had just been clinging to a sliver of hope, suddenly trembled.

The last shred of hope I had managed to hold on shattered instantly, and a burning pain shot straight to the top of my head.

He stared intently at the red comb.

Kneeling beside Zhu Muying, Xu Miaoyun, dressed in plain white mourning clothes, had been bowing her head and shedding tears when she saw the red comb revealed in the wooden box.

She shuddered suddenly, staggered past the palace servants on both sides, and rushed to Jiang Huan. Ignoring the letters scattered on the ground, she bent down and grabbed the peach wood comb from the wooden box into her palm.

The red comb feels slightly cool to the touch, with familiar patterns.

Tears welled up in her eyes, her frail body trembled violently, and her white dress swayed gently in the wind, like a white flower about to wither.

Her fingertips caressed the twin lotus blossoms on her back again and again, her lips trembling as she murmured softly, her voice hoarse and broken, sounding particularly desolate in the silent hall.

"This is a red comb that he carved for me by hand before he went to war. He promised that when he returned after pacifying the border, he would marry me with a ten-mile-long red bridal procession and an eight-bearer sedan chair."

She looked up, her eyes blurry with tears, gazing out of the palace, as if she could still see the young general standing in the pavilion.

The image of promising the rest of one's life.

"He promised me everything: a bridal procession of ten miles, a phoenix coronet and embroidered robe, wedding candles in the hall."

Xu Miaoyun slowly turned around, her gaze sweeping over the civil and military officials in the hall, finally settling on Zhu Yuanzhang.

"But now, only one thing remains of the ten-mile-long red bridal procession: the coffin."

She pressed the red comb tightly to her heart, her back ramrod straight, her white robes making her face appear even paler, and her words, each one filled with tears, echoed throughout the Fengtian Hall.

"Your Majesty, Mu Ying and I were bound by love for life. As long as he lived, I would wait for his return. Now that he has been unjustly killed, I cannot let him walk alone on the road to the underworld. My husband could not share a bed with me in life, but after his death, I will surely be buried with him in the same coffin, accompanying him for eternity."

These words caused an uproar in the hall, and all the civil and military officials were deeply moved, sighing softly.

Empress Ma, already exhausted from weeping over Zhu Muying's body, went limp upon hearing this, choking back tears as she reached out to grab Xu Miaoyun: "Good child, don't talk nonsense, life is more important..."

Xu Miaoyun gently shook her head, took a step back to avoid the Empress's hand, her eyes filled with determination, and her hand holding the red comb did not loosen its grip even slightly.

"Your Majesty, there is no need to persuade me. Miaoyun's mind is made up. There are countless men in the world, but in my heart there is only Prince Ying. He died tragically and unjustly. I am left to live on, and every day I look at this red comb, only to suffer endless torment. It would be better to go with him to the underworld and cross the Bridge of Helplessness with him."