Joy of Life: Starting by clinging to the eldest princess's coattails!

Chapter 39 A Ghostly Encounter!

"Your Majesty, shall we return to the Imperial Study or..." Eunuch Hou asked in a low voice.

Emperor Qing did not respond.

He walked straight toward the side hall of Chang Le Palace, and Eunuch Hou hurriedly followed, not daring to say another word.

At the entrance of the side hall, eight armored warriors stood like statues.

Upon seeing Emperor Qing arrive, they all knelt on one knee.

"Open the door," Emperor Qing said calmly.

The two assassins immediately stood up and pushed open the palace doors, one on the left and one on the right.

Emperor Qing went inside.

Eunuch Hou followed closely behind.

As Emperor Qing walked through the empty outer hall and was about to enter the inner palace where the corpses were kept, he paused slightly and, without turning his head, ordered, "Have someone prepare firewood."

Eunuch Hou trembled, instantly understanding the emperor's intention, and bowed his head in response, "Yes, Your Majesty."

Emperor Qing said nothing more and walked into the inner palace alone.

Eunuch Hou stood outside the door, watching His Majesty's figure disappear into the darkness, then gently closed the door to the inner hall and sent someone to make arrangements.

In the center of the hall, a clear human figure was covered with a plain white linen cloth on a wooden board.

Emperor Qing walked up alone. He looked at the silhouette, his eyes filled with a complex and unreadable expression.

He reached out and slowly lifted the white cloth.

Ye Qingmei's face was revealed, deathly pale, her eyes tightly closed. Her features were still delicate, but she was lifeless.

The once bright and sparkling eyes are now just two silent shadows.

Emperor Qing just watched.

He did indeed fall in love with this woman.

Intelligent, independent, with a vision he had never seen before and unbelievable, even frightening, methods.

She helped him ascend the throne, helped him rectify the court, and also established the Censorate and the Jiangnan Navy.

But she shouldn't have blocked his way.

They should not possess the power to overthrow the imperial authority.

He shouldn't feel threatened.

Therefore, she must die.

Now, his meridians are on the verge of rupture, and every breath is accompanied by needle-like pain.

He knew that Ye Qingmei must have tampered with the domineering true energy.

She wanted him dead.

She wanted him to die from shattered meridians, so that she could completely control the Qing Kingdom and let the child in her womb inherit the throne.

Well thought out.

Emperor Qing's lips curled into a very faint smile, it was hard to tell whether it was a smile or something else.

He felt neither love nor hate.

It's like looking at an object that was once precious but now has to be destroyed.

……

I don't know how much time passed.

He reached out and gently stroked Ye Qingmei's cool cheek with his fingertips.

"If I hadn't made arrangements beforehand..." His voice was exceptionally clear in the empty inner hall, "you might have actually succeeded."

As soon as he finished speaking, a sharp, stabbing pain shot through his chest, as if his shattered meridians were being torn apart by an invisible hand.

He groaned, abruptly pulled his hand back to cover his chest, and a fine layer of cold sweat instantly appeared on his forehead.

After a few breaths, the pain lessened slightly.

He stared at Ye Qingmei's face, his gaze suddenly turning sharp and cold:

"But I will not accept my fate. I am the emperor, and I will not die like this!"

After saying that, he stopped looking and simply covered the white cloth back up, then turned and walked out of the inner hall.

When Eunuch Hou saw His Majesty come out, he immediately stepped forward to greet him: "Your Majesty, the firewood has been prepared."

"Take it away," Emperor Qing said calmly.

Eunuch Hou bowed respectfully and then waved towards the outside of the hall.

Four assassins silently entered the inner hall; two carried wooden planks, while two stood guard beside them.

They carried Ye Qingmei's body out of the side hall, through the long corridor, and towards a secluded courtyard in the inner palace.

Emperor Qing and Eunuch Hou followed behind.

The courtyard was very remote, with high walls and empty space, except for a pile of dry firewood taller than a person in the center.

The assassins placed the body on top of the woodpile.

The silhouette covered by a white cloth lay on the dry firewood, looking somewhat eerie in the dim light.

Six assassins, each holding a torch, stood around him.

Emperor Qing walked up to the nearest assassin and extended his hand.

The assassin immediately and respectfully handed over the torch.

Emperor Qing held a torch, the flames dancing on his pale face, making his eyes appear even deeper.

He gazed at the outline of the white cloth on the pile of firewood, and slowly began to speak, as if addressing the dead, or perhaps speaking to himself:

"I will personally see you off on your final journey, as a way of... thanking you for everything you have done for the Qing Kingdom."

As soon as he finished speaking, he tossed the torch forward.

The torch landed precisely on the edge of the dry woodpile.

The dry firewood was ignited instantly.

Upon seeing this, the other assassins immediately threw their torches into the air.

Dry firewood ignites instantly upon contact with fire, flames leap up suddenly, spitting out tongues of fire, and rapidly spreading towards the center, with scorching heat waves hitting you in the face.

The orange-red firelight illuminated half the courtyard and also the expressionless face of Emperor Qing.

Ye Qingmei comes from the Temple, and her methods are unpredictable.

Only by seeing her turn to ashes could he truly find peace.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Deep in the desolate mountains on the eastern outskirts of Kyoto.

Wu Feng pushed open the coffin lid and placed it next to the pit that had been dug beforehand.

The location he chose was very secluded, surrounded by mountains on three sides, with a stream in front, which was considered good feng shui.

Looking in the direction of the Kyoto Imperial Palace.

I wonder if Emperor Qing has gone to see Ye Qingmei yet, or if he has already done so.

The plan was to move the body while Emperor Qing was present, but the timing was impossible to control precisely.

However, as long as Emperor Qing knows that Ye Qingmei's body suddenly disappeared despite heavy guard, his goal will be achieved.

"System," Wu Feng murmured to himself, "use the Star Shift technique to transfer Ye Qingmei's body into this coffin."

【Ding~】

[The Shifting Stars technique is in progress...]

The light and shadow inside the coffin seemed to subtly distort for a moment.

In the next instant, a body dressed in tattered white clothes appeared out of thin air.

But there were still tiny, unextinguished flames on the hem of her clothes!

Holy crap!

Wu Feng didn't have time to think and immediately put out the fire.

The flames were small and were extinguished quickly, but a large area of ​​the hem of the clothes was charred, with wisps of smoke rising from the edges.

Who did this?

Empress Dowager? Empress? Or Emperor Qing?

Wasn't there a rumor that, fearing Ye Qingmei's resurrection, Emperor Qing or the Empress Dowager ordered her to be chopped up and composted?

Why did you just burn it?

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

In the palace courtyard, the flames were still raging.

The dry firewood crackled and popped, the firelight illuminating the faces of everyone around.

Emperor Qing suddenly frowned.

He stared at the center of the flames, where the outline of a corpse should have been, but now it seemed to be empty.

Just then, the flames suddenly contracted inward!

It wasn't the wind that caused it to sway; it was as if something was suddenly pulled away from the center of the flames, causing the fire to tilt.

The next moment, everyone present saw it clearly...

The woodpile was empty!

The corpse that should have been on top... is gone!

Just like that, it vanished into thin air!

It vanished amidst the raging flames, before everyone's eyes.

"..."

The assassins tightened their grip on their weapons, and some instinctively took a half-step back.

Grandpa Hou opened his mouth wide, his eyes widened, and he remained silent for a long time.

Emperor Qing stood frozen in place, his pupils suddenly dilating as he stared intently at the empty top of the woodpile.

A bone-chilling cold surged up my spine and up to my head, instantly overpowering the excruciating pain of my shattered meridians.

His face was deathly pale, and cold sweat poured down his back.

"Uh... Pfft!"

Extreme terror and excruciating pain erupted simultaneously.

Emperor Qing's body trembled violently, and he staggered forward, spitting out a mouthful of blood.

Under the blazing firelight, the dust that splattered was a shocking sight!