In the lower deck of the ship, Empress Xiahou Mi slumped in her chair, her expression frozen, her face ashen, cold sweat soaking through her phoenix crown and rosy cloud robe.
"How could this happen?"
"My adoptive father was so strong!"
"If my adoptive father is dead, the next one is..."
Xiahou Mi felt her hair stand on end, her body trembling uncontrollably, plunging into immense panic, dispirited, unable to sit or stand with ease.
"Summon the Princess..."
No sooner had Xiahou Mi spoken than she corrected herself, "Ah no, it’s better that I go see her myself."
Xiahou Mi arrived at a door.
On the enormous ship, there was a specially crafted room reserved for Ji Yuanwu’s seclusion.
This room had two doors, each guarded by a gatekeeper.
Xiahou Mi approached the first gatekeeper, a middle-aged man.
He was tall and burly, with a square face and large ears, and a jet-black mustache at the corners of his lips.
His deep-set eyes shone with a deep blue light, like the night sea.
The man’s skin was bronze, suggesting a raw and powerful wildness.
He sat cross-legged, eyes closed, a plain saber resting on his knees, like a metallic sculpture.
Xiahou Mi stood before the man, a look of reverence crossing her face as she bowed slightly and said, "Sword Saint, you have worked hard."
The man was the esteemed Sword Saint.
He suddenly opened his eyes, stood up to bow, and said with neither humility nor arrogance, "This humble subject pays respects to the Empress."
Xiahou Mi hurriedly said, "Dispense with the formalities, I have come to see the Princess."
Princess Ji Hongzhen was the gatekeeper at the second door.
The Sword Saint remained motionless, bowing his head and saying, "Empress, whatever has happened outside, the Princess is already fully aware."
Then he enunciated each word slowly, "The Princess says, it is a critical moment for His Majesty’s seclusion and cultivation, and no one is to disturb him."
Xiahou Mi’s breath hitched, her complexion growing even uglier as she urgently said, "What if Fang Zhixing plots against me? What then?"
The Sword Saint, unflinching, replied, "As long as the pact of non-aggression stands, Fang Zhixing dares not and cannot harm you."
On hearing this, Xiahou Mi gradually calmed down.
If not for the pact of non-aggression, Fang Zhixing would likely have been killed by Ji Yuanwu long ago.
And both the ancestor of the Witch Clan and the real person of Feilong had not joined the pact of non-aggression.
Fang Zhixing could kill them without repercussions.
After a long contemplation...
Xiahou Mi eventually turned away without a word, her expression one of extreme loss, looking utterly bereaved.
Not long after, she returned to her room and sat down wearily.
A maid brought over tea and fruit pastries, kneeling respectfully before presenting them to Xiahou Mi.
Just then, Xiahou Mi was thirsty and took the teacup, drinking eagerly in gulps.
"I’m tired, you may all leave," said Xiahou Mi as she put down the cup and waved her hand.
The maids and the eunuchs promptly took their leave.
Exhausted in both body and mind, Xiahou Mi lay down to sleep.
After an unknown period, she suddenly awoke, turned over, and vomited a clot of sticky crimson.
The odor of blood mixed with the acrid smell of stomach acid spread throughout.
Xiahou Mi could only feel an icy coldness in her belly, a discomfort beyond description throughout her body.
She turned her head toward the mirror, and was immediately startled.
Her lips had turned purple at this time, her skin was dull and lusterless, and blood flowed from all seven facial orifices.
How could the word "wretched" alone suffice!
"I’ve been poisoned, I’ve been poisoned!"
Alarm painted Xiahou Mi’s face as she screamed hoarsely, "Imperial Physician, summon the Imperial Physician quickly."
Outside the door, there was dead silence, not a stir.
Xiahou Mi’s heart sank, and she forced herself up and ran towards the door.
Suddenly, a figure emerged.
Xiahou Mi’s pupils constricted as she blurted out, "It’s you!"
Before her eyes, the figure was none other than Noble Concubine Duanmu Yingxue.
In her hand, she held a long spear, and her body was clad in a suit of bright armor.
"What, what are you going to do?" Xiahou Mi changed color, retreating step by step.
Duanmu Yingxue’s face was full of intent to kill as she spoke coldly, "The deadly poison you drank was originally meant for my own use."
Xiahou Mi, gripped by fear, exclaimed, "Sister Yingxue, you must clearly know the crime of plotting against the Empress."
Duanmu Yingxue gave a scornful laugh, "From the moment I left Great Zhou, I was no longer a noble concubine, and you were no longer the Empress. Like everyone else, we’re adventurers seeking the path of Taoism with all our hearts."
Xiahou Mi was rendered speechless.
The killing intent of Duanmu Yingxue grew intense as she lifted the long spear and assumed an attacking stance, saying, "Had you not relentlessly pressed me and almost killed my father, I would not have been driven to this extremity. You show no mercy, so don’t blame me for not being righteous!"
Tremendous Vigorous Force poured into the spear.
The long spear trembled with a buzzing sound, emitting a tricolored brilliance that was spectacular to behold.
Xiahou Mi gasped in alarm, growing more terrified, and reached for her long sword, drawing it out.
A massive wave of weakness and powerlessness instantly overcame her!
Xiahou Mi was unable to lift the long sword.
In the next instant, Duanmu Yingxue suddenly burst forth, pointing the spear straight ahead.
"Ruyi Qianjun Spear!"
The Duanmu Clan’s secret technique was displayed to the fullest in this moment.
Fang Zhixing returned to his room, lay down on the bed, and fell straight to sleep.
He slept for two whole days.
When he woke, he was brimming with energy, his exhaustion completely swept away.
Xigou jumped onto the bed, happily announcing, "I have good news for you, the Empress has croaked."
Fang Zhixing turned his head in surprise, asking, "How did she die?"
Xigou replied, "I overheard that the Empress is suspected to have committed suicide by poisoning."
Fang Zhixing couldn’t help but wonder aloud, "Ji Yuanwu is still alive, and I am also bound by the non-aggression pact and cannot kill her directly, so why would she commit suicide?"
As he spoke, a realization struck him, and he laughed bitterly, "Dog eats dog, a mouthful of fur."
Xigou couldn’t help but roll his eyes.