Chapter Seventy-Two: The Plan to Escape

Ming Mo held Keke in his palm and examined her carefully before placing her back into my hand. “Seventh Princess, you must keep your pet under control from now on.” He had not harmed Keke; he still appeared every bit the gentleman, every bit the embodiment of righteousness. There was not the slightest hint that he was, in truth, a thorough traitor—a base villain! Of course, why would he hurt a mere pet bird? What he sought was the life of the God Choming.

I closed my eyes, refusing to look at him, shielding Keke within my hands.

Jiang Shi spoke gently. “Seventh Princess, this is the fate of those who marry for alliance. As women, we must learn to obey, to bow our heads, to hold our tongues when it is time to be silent. Do not dwell on the past; those who are gone cannot protect you—otherwise you would never have married into the Underworld. Now that you are here, you must be a proper consort—listen to your father and to Zhong’er.”

Her voice was so soft, yet every word pierced my heart. She taught me nothing but how to endure humiliation, how to survive in this endless darkness—how to scrape out a living in this hell.

The next day, Keke flew to the garden on her own and returned to tell me how she had once again berated Ming Mo for his betrayal and lack of honor, scolded Jiang Wu for her spinelessness, and even pecked at his head. Her attention was entirely focused on attacking Ming Mo, yet he was the last person I wished to hear about.

“Fei’er, I overheard Ming Mo and Jiang Shi discussing something. The King’s favored concubine failed in refining the Elixir of Immortality. Spoiled by his affection, she became reckless, and the King had her fed to the hounds. No wonder Jiang Shi was so terrified—the King is utterly ruthless. I think that poor concubine and Ming Mo’s mother are both quite pitiable…”

A smile flickered at my lips. The favored concubine—could it be that alluring woman I once met long ago? In this Underworld, affection means nothing; once you lose your usefulness, death is your only fate. Jiang Wu, with little status, is indeed adept at surviving by any means—so much so that she let her own son serve the King, leading to Master’s death! Does pity excuse such hateful actions?

After that, Keke went to the garden every day, chattering and cursing at Ming Mo, or stirring up trouble in his palace. She was consumed by her anger toward him. As for me, I never returned to that garden—I could not bear to see that mother and son, nor hear anything about them. Rather than listen to Keke’s endless recounting, I preferred to collapse into dreams in this shadowed palace—ideally, never to wake again.

Every time I fell ill or was wounded, Master would stay by my side, brewing fragrant porridge for me to drink… In the Sunset Cave, Master would sit cross-legged before me, his face so haggard yet still straining to heal my injuries with his magic… His brow furrowed, withdrawing his power, clutching his chest in pain, his face growing even paler…

“Master… is the backlash from the Soul Capturing Spell severe?” I asked.

“It’s nothing. Fei’er, you must live well.” He tried to continue, but was seized by a violent cough, blood staining his lips…

“Stop! I will live, I won’t die! You don’t need to risk your life to save me!” I grabbed his hand, looking at him in desperation—only to see that sinister, masked face before me!

Ming Zhong stood by my bedside, coldly shaking off my hand before turning away and coughing quietly. If this weren’t the Underworld, if I hadn’t seen that face I so deeply hated, I really could have mistaken that back for his… Perhaps I am losing my mind…

“There’s porridge on the table—drink it yourself,” Ming Zhong said coldly.

“You expect me to drink porridge you gave me?” I closed my eyes, sinking back into stupor.

“When I say drink, you will drink whether you want to or not!” Ming Zhong seized me, forced my mouth open, conjured a tube of spiritual energy, and shoved it down my throat. The porridge poured straight down through the tube into my gullet. I clung weakly to his arm, tears slipping from the corners of my eyes…

My head wrenched back, jaw clamped in his grip, until every drop of porridge was gone. Ming Zhong tossed the empty bowl onto the table, removed the tube from my throat, and swept out of the room with a flick of his sleeve.

The taste of that porridge lingered in my mouth… It was so familiar… I collapsed onto the bed, weeping soundlessly.

In the Palace of the Underworld, the Underworld Duke sat with his head bowed, grinning wickedly as he watched with his Celestial Eye.

“Underworld Duke! What are you doing?” The King of the Underworld was distinctly displeased.

The Duke jumped, flustered. “Ah? Father! Drinking porridge!”

A heavy slap landed on his face. “Drinking porridge? Did you even hear what I just told you?”

Flustered, the Duke summoned his Ghostly Ear and repeated, “Father said I am to help capture Chunfeng alive… But, Father, Chunfeng is so powerful—how are we supposed to catch him?”

“Fool! Don’t think I don’t know you pulled a switch and brought Yunxiao’s disciple here!” the King snapped.

“Heh, Father is as wise as ever…” the Duke flattered.

“Tell the second son—watch that ‘Seventh Princess’ day and night! Don’t let her escape, and don’t let her die! Wait for Chunfeng to take the bait!” the King commanded.

The Duke pursed his lips. “That’s not so certain. Second Brother is always reckless; that ‘Seventh Princess’ has already died once. Father should give him direct orders—he wouldn’t dare defy you. The porridge was already cooked, just coax her to drink it, but he had to force it down her throat! How foolish! He forces everything, never gets any thanks…” The Duke laughed more and more gleefully.

“Thanks from whom? Who told you women need coddling? I’ve always said—disobedient women must die! Are you deaf?” the King scolded.

“No… no…” The Duke denied hurriedly, terrified.

“Coddling her isn’t Second Brother’s style!” the King said.

Eyes glinting, the Duke added excitedly, “Father, why not send Second Brother to catch Chunfeng alive? Master and uncle, caught in one net—a deep and bitter feud, that would be even more interesting…”

“Don’t rely on Second Brother for everything. He’s badly injured—if he dies in battle, will you lead the charge against Heaven?” the King demanded.

The Duke quickly grinned obsequiously. “Father, you’re strong and healthy. You could have ten more sons to serve as vanguard! I, with my exceptional talents, can stay behind and command. Once I perfect my Celestial Eye and Ear, nothing will escape my notice, right, Father?”

“Then put your words into action!” the King snapped.

“What if Chunfeng doesn’t come?” the Duke asked.

“Then we do what needs to be done. When the time comes to raise the army, we’ll drag her out as a sacrifice to rally our troops and humiliate Heaven!” the King declared.

The Duke beamed as if tasting honey. “Father, you are truly sagacious! I wonder if Second Brother will be able to let go—what a show that will be!”

“What’s there to let go? He’s killed plenty of women before! Useless thing—stop wasting your time on frivolities! Your Celestial Eye has grown cloudy of late!”

The Duke, bristling at the reprimand, grumbled, “Cloudy? My ears are nearly deaf! Second Brother’s wounds never heal—every night he coughs like a ghost with consumption! His coughing gives me headaches and dizziness. At this rate, if he doesn’t cough himself to death, I’ll be driven mad. Father, why not cast your blood barrier over me so I can get a good night’s sleep?”

The King glared. “No! Keep those eyes and ears sharp! Stop tormenting your brother—do something useful! If he can’t go to war, you’ll go in his place!”

The Duke nodded and bowed, still grinning slyly. “Yes, Father is right. With my gifts, Father would never send me to the frontlines… heh.”

That night, after another fierce bout of coughing from Ming Zhong, the Duke came by, speaking in earnest tones. “Second Brother! You cough so much, you’re ruining my nerves! Do you know how sensitive my Ghostly Eye and Ear are? Day and night I have to see and hear so much. If you keep this up, you’ll be the death of me!”

“Sorry to trouble you, Brother. My wounds always flare up at night,” Ming Zhong replied weakly.

“That damned Yunxiao, even dead he leaves such trouble behind. If you keep this up, how will you consummate your marriage? Be careful you don’t die before you get the girl. Stop reading those books for a few days—they’re hurting your spirit. The Underworld is counting on you to defeat Heaven!”

“I understand, Brother. The wound is not serious, just makes sleep difficult at night,” Ming Zhong said helplessly.

“Sleep? You should have said so! I have some Dreamless Pills—colorless and tasteless. I’ll give you some; take one every night and sleep soundly! You can use them on pretty girls, too—much simpler than a soul charm. I know you like that sort of thing…” The Duke leered.

“Thank you, Brother, I must learn more from you,” Ming Zhong replied with a matching leer.

“That’s the way—no need to be so rough all the time. Take your medicine and rest. With your wound acting up, how will you get married, heh…”

Their words sickened me. But that was exactly what I needed—the Dreamless Pills!

“Fei’er, we can use the Dreamless Pills to knock them out,” Keke whispered to me.

I smiled at her in agreement. But how to obtain them? How to drug them, to avoid the Duke’s Ghostly Eye and Ear?

The next night, Ming Zhong came to tease Keke again. This time, she was unusually cooperative, even repeating the insults to Ming Zhong in a sweet tone.

“You’re much more obedient than your mistress,” Ming Zhong said as he placed a handful of grains in his palm for Keke. She hopped onto his hand and ate.

Afterward, Ming Zhong clapped his hands, began coughing, and ordered a maid to bring a jug of wine. He dropped some Dreamless Pills into the wine. As he poured himself a cup, he coughed again, hand shaking, spilling wine all over the table. The rich aroma filled the room.

Suddenly I realized this was a perfect opportunity. I glanced at Keke, smiling at her.

Drawn by the scent, Keke flew over and pecked at the wine-soaked grains. After a single bite, she collapsed on the table.

Ming Zhong glanced at her but ignored it. He poured a small cup of wine, brought it to me, and said coldly, “Will you drink it yourself, or shall I make you?”

“He actually wants me to drink it! Wasn’t this for his own sleep?” I stared at him in horror.

“Fine! Just like always!” Ming Zhong growled, gripping my jaw tightly. I struggled, prying at his hand with all my strength.

It was useless—I was far too weak.

The burning wine rushed down my throat. It was only a small cup, but in moments my eyelids grew heavy, my mind numb, my body floating.

Suddenly Ming Zhong threw himself on me, panting like a beast as he tore off my outer robe, ripped at my dress, and hastily stripped off his own clothes…

And I lost consciousness.