Chapter 119 – Extra 2: No Wings to Flee (Part III)

 

“Still no sign of Empress Li?”

In the grand and resplendent Ziwei Palace, a petite, exquisitely dressed figure dropped a slip of paper into the lantern. Flames flared for a moment, then died down.

Kneeling before her, palace servants trembled in fear. The maid delivering the report dared not raise her head and spoke timidly, “Reporting to the Consort Dowager… His Majesty has declared a reward—whoever finds the Empress within three days shall be granted the title of a non-imperial Prince, inheritable forever. But if she’s not found… he’ll begin executing all those suspected of plotting against her.”

Lu Yao lifted her head. Her face, delicate as a lotus in clear water, wore a cold, thin smile.

“So, she really intends to leave…”

She rose from the couch, brushing aside the eunuch who came to assist her, and walked slowly toward the inner hall, adorned in golden grandeur, where yellow silk draped the walls.

Servants hurried to shut all nearby doors and windows.

Moonlight streamed in, catching the drifting dust in midair—dust with nowhere to escape.

Lu Yao took an object down from the wall, walked to the far end of the inner hall, and suddenly cracked the whip.

A sharp crack echoed alongside a bloodcurdling scream.

From a dark corner of the room, a haggard figure jerked upright.

Xie Shencong, startled from sleep, stared ahead with wide, terrified eyes. Confusion lingered in his gaze. In just three years, he had become utterly unrecognizable—white-haired, emaciated, a husk of the man who once ruled the Yan Dynasty.

Even Prince Feng might not recognize him now.

“I stayed in this wretched palace to clean up her mess, and she really just left me behind!”

“She promised me—after everything, she’d let me go home!”

“Three years, and I’m still here, forced to live as a Consort Dowager! She honored her word to She kept her promise to Prince Feng, sparing your life… But what about the promise she made to me?! If you don’t die, how can I ever go home?!”

Lu Yao’s eyes burned with rage. She lashed the whip again and again. The jeweled ornaments in her hair danced madly in the air like windblown chimes.

Xie Shencong screamed, scrambling across the floor like a beaten dog. The iron chains on his limbs clattered with each movement.

“How many times must I remind you? You’re a beast—less than an animal. You are not allowed to speak like a man. You are only allowed to grunt!”

“Grunt! Grunt!”

No one in the palace dared plead for Xie Shencong. Every servant present had been personally selected by Xie Lanxu—each one both a jailer and a spy.

In three years, despite every scheme he concocted, Xie Shencong never escaped their control. His last attempt had ended with a pack of blindfolded beggars pouncing on him—reeking, laughing as they—

Under such relentless torment, his sanity had steadily collapsed.

“Grunt! Grunt!”

He sobbed, sniveling like a beast, wailing with snot and tears.

Breathing hard, Lu Yao finally stopped.

She stomped the whip beneath her heel, grinding it against the floor, hatred burning bright in her eyes.

“I won’t let you get what you want. Not so easily…”

******

Weiyang Palace, under a moon cold as water.

Xie Lanxu, clad only in his inner robe, sat before a wide, carved window. The frigid twelfth-month wind tousled his loose hair and robes, but he remained still, numb to it all.

Bathed in pale moonlight, his face was void of color—like a ghost, soulless and empty.

Chief Eunuch Gao halted at the inner chamber’s threshold, then gestured for someone behind him to enter.

Lu Yao stepped across the sill and into the chamber.

Given their current statuses, neither owed the other a bow.

She stood still, gazing at the man who wouldn’t even glance at her.

Then she spoke, “I know how to find Li Zhi.”

The man who had seemed like a soulless husk slowly turned his head. His eyes, cold as ice, fell upon her.

“If I find her,” she said, “do I get to be the Non-imperial Prince, which will be hereditary and eternal?”

“Yes.”

“People don’t vanish into thin air. If no one saw her leave the Epiphyllum Garden… then she must still be there.”

Xie Lanxu narrowed his eyes, recalling the layout. “There’s nowhere to hide in that garden.”

“And how can Your Majesty be sure of that, just by looking?”

“…What do you propose?”

“Give me one hundred strong men. I’ll find her for you.” Her tone was calm but fierce. “And you’ll name me the first woman to ever be made a non-imperial prince.”

Her soft, almond-shaped eyes shimmered—not with kindness, but ambition.

“Very well,” Xie Lanxu said.

Soon, a hundred Imperial Guards assembled before Lu Yao.

She led them all to the greenhouse where Li Zhi had vanished.

“Demolish it all,” she ordered. “Tear this place down and dig three feet deep!”

The soldiers exchanged uneasy glances, unsure if this would amount to anything—but they dared not disobey.

They began by smashing the walls and roof.

Hammers slammed down again and again. Window frames and doors collapsed.

Lu Yao, holding a sharp dagger, shredded the thick felt carpeting with swift, ruthless slices.

The night passed slowly.

At last, the roof caved in with a thunderous crash. The remaining epiphyllum flowers withered under the fading stars.

The greenhouse was reduced to rubble.

Only a hollow column remained—the one that once carried heat into the chamber.

Xie Lanxu, now standing with Chief Eunuch Gao on the outskirts of the growing crowd, watched silently.

“Smash it,” Lu Yao ordered.

The column crumbled into pieces, revealing a black opening beneath.

The hollow structure was connected to an underground furnace beyond the garden. During the day, a fire was kindled outside, and the heat was funneled through a channel into the column to keep the epiphyllum warm year-round.

“Your Majesty!”

A soldier closest to the opening peered down, and his face changed instantly. He leapt in, then emerged holding something high.

The Empress’s golden phoenix hairpin, glinting in the morning light.

And beside it—a slip of paper.

An uproar surged through the crowd.

Xie Lanxu took the note.

On it were just two lines, written in an unfamiliar script:

“I am Dujuan, a wandering immortal of the Northern Heavens. I have seen that the Empress of Yan possesses immortal potential, so I have taken her as my disciple to train in the immortal arts at the Celestial Palace.”

“Mortal and immortal paths must not intertwine. Do not seek her. Do not miss her.”

Signed: Immortal Dujuan of the Northern Skies.

The note crumpled slowly in Xie Lanxu’s tightening grip.

His face remained expressionless, but the chill radiating from him made the air feel like knives.

“This heating system, does it run at all hours?” he asked quietly.

The manager of the Epiphyllum Garden stammered:

“Your Majesty… Based on the flower’s needs, the heat is only provided during the day. It’s never fired at night.”

“Who oversaw the construction of the Epiphyllum Garden?”

A murmur passed among the officials. The Minister of Public Works stepped forward.

“Your Majesty, the project was led by Assistant Director Li Xiu, who has since retired and returned to his hometown…”

“Was there any mechanism or secret door in that column?”

The minister hesitated. He looked to the soldiers who had demolished it.

All shook their heads. Nothing had been found.

“Chief Eunuch Gao.”

“Your servant is here.”

“Send someone to check the furnace chamber. And you—” he pointed to the soldier who had retrieved the note, “—crawl through the fire duct. See what’s on the other side.”

Both obeyed at once.

Time passed.

The two returned from outside the Epiphyllum Garden.

“Reporting, Your Majesty,” said the eunuch. “The furnace room was untouched. No footprints, no signs of activity.”

The soldier added, “The tunnel is full of soot and ash. No traces of anyone passing through.”

“Could it really be true?” Someone in the crowd murmured. “Did she… ascend to the immortal realm?”

Lu Yao looked at Xie Lanxu and asked, “Does the reward still stand?”

He stared at her for a long moment.

“…Pass down my decree,” he said. “Consort Dowager Lu, for having once tended the former emperor and now solving the mystery of the Empress’s disappearance, is wise, clever, and loyal. I hereby confer upon her the title Duke De. She is granted an estate outside the palace. Her title and rank are equal to those of a prince. The title shall be hereditary and endure with the state.”

“Your Majesty—!”

An official stepped forward to protest.

“I have decided,” Xie Lanxu said coldly.

Before anyone else could speak, he turned and left.

Back at Weiyang Palace, he sat alone for hours.

The bright morning gave way to a cold, moonlit night.

Then he finally spoke.

“Chief Eunuch Gao. Do you believe in immortals?”

Chief Eunuch Gao bowed low, as he once did to the previous emperor.

“This servant has heard tales—but never seen one with my own eyes. I dare not presume.”

Xie Lanxu lowered his eyes. His expression grew calm.

He picked up a brush and wrote an imperial edict—summoning Prince Feng back to the capital to serve as regent.

When the ink dried, he handed the decree to Chief Eunuch Gao.

Staring into the moonlight, he murmured, “I, too, will become immortal.”

Chief Eunuch Gao said nothing.

“Open the palace gates. Let the officials return home.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

—

That very night, a lone carriage was the first to depart the palace.

As the gates opened, on the fifth day of their confinement, the officials rushed toward the Dismount Stone outside the palace, where their worried families were waiting.

Everyone buzzed with rumors of what had transpired during the New Year’s banquet.

The now-ruined Epiphyllum Garden lay still.

Amid the shattered debris, a hand reached out.

Then an arm.

Then a face.

Li Zhi emerged, climbing out from an iron ladder back to the surface.

She was still wearing the formal robes from that fateful night.

Lu Yao stood waiting by the hidden tunnel, holding out a palace maid’s uniform and a permit token.

“The Emperor has left. The carriage is waiting at the Spring Rain Gate. Look for one marked with antler carvings.”

She looked at Li Zhi and said softly, “This is likely the last time we’ll ever meet… Sister Li, may your wish be fulfilled.”

There was no need for words.

Under the cover of the ruins, Li Zhi changed clothes. Before leaving, she gave Lu Yao one last look—

Then turned and walked away.

Only Lu Yao remained, watching her vanish down the winding palace path.

She looked down, nudging the shredded felt carpet with her toe, a childlike wistfulness in her gaze.

The tunnel’s entrance had been hidden beneath a precisely cut slit in the rug—undetectable unless one deliberately felt for it.

Lu Yao had slashed the carpet—not to uncover the secret, but to conceal it.

The night of the disappearance, Li Zhi had slipped into the passage while Xie Lanxu briefly stepped out. She restored the carpet’s surface before he returned.

The hairpin and the note had been planted from the day the garden was constructed.

The chamber would eventually be discovered—but Lu Yao made sure it happened on her terms.

Every step had been rehearsed a thousand times.

For three days, she had never left the garden.

She had always been a bird longing for freedom.

The palace—just a golden cage.

Lu Yao looked up at the deep night sky and smiled.

The bird had flown.

And that was good.

Wearing a palace maid’s uniform, Li Zhi used the token to leave the palace without obstruction and boarded the carriage Lu Yao had arranged.

Dawn was breaking.

She cracked the window, letting in fresh air. She had never cherished her body more than in this moment.

Life… growing within life.

Like a flower blooming inside another flower.

Every time she touched her belly, she felt a sacred, unnameable emotion.

It was stronger than regret. It brought her back to herself.

In the golden glow of dawn, a soft melody floated from the carriage.

A lullaby—first sung to her by Madam Qin, now sung to the child in her womb.

The morning light scattered the clouds, casting a silken veil over the carriage.

The capital of Yan was waking.

And Li Xia returned to the world of the living.