“You’ve forgotten what you just said.” The Third Prince mocked Princess Wenyang as she struggled to shout.
Princess Wenyang stopped crying out, her bloodshot, purplish eyes glaring as she asked, “What did I say?”
The Third Prince reminded her calmly, “You just said that if I treated you this way, your imperial brother would only be happier. At a time like this, you still expect him to come save you?”
Princess Wenyang’s vision flickered between black and white. Her lips had been bitten open, blood dripping down. Her makeup had been ruined by the earlier crying and struggle—her once delicate, pretty face no longer resembled that of a normal person.
The Third Prince’s voice continued to echo in her ears. “Your imperial brother is nearby, watching everything. He’s eager for me to act now. As soon as I do, he won’t have to risk sending his own men to do it himself…”
“You’re lying… you must be lying… my imperial brother wouldn’t dare treat me like this. Even if he is king, above him is still Mother. My mother would never allow him to do this… no… no…”
The Third Prince let out a cold laugh. “Your mother has already gone ahead of you—at your brother’s hands.”
At last, Princess Wenyang lost all hope. She looked at the Third Prince, all her earlier fury and madness gone, replaced by pitiful pleading.
“Your Highness… you must be confused. I remember when you accompanied me to see the lanterns—you liked me then. You even gave me the most beautiful lantern, and we walked along the streets together…”
“Silence!” The Third Prince cut her off sharply, extinguishing her courage to continue.
“If I hadn’t accompanied you that night, Xueshi wouldn’t have fallen gravely ill with no one to care for him. If I had returned earlier, he would have suffered far less. Perhaps… he wouldn’t have chosen to leave me.”
After a few stunned seconds, Princess Wenyang spoke urgently, “Your Highness, I can persuade my imperial brother to cancel the marriage arrangement. Then you won’t have to marry me, and you won’t have to worry about Young Master Xue leaving you again… I promise, I’ll return to Lubei immediately and never come back.”
“We are already married. You are no longer a princess of Lubei—you are only the consort of Yunxi.”
“Then you can divorce me, you can cast me aside! I’ll tell the Emperor it was my own unforgivable crime…” Princess Wenyang begged through tears.
At this moment, the Third Prince looked at her as though she were nothing more than a crumpled piece of waste paper.
“Don’t worry, I will divorce you. But everything you must suffer has nothing to do with whether you are my consort.”
“Your Highness, if you divorce me, Young Master Xue won’t leave you again… but if you treat me so cruelly, once he finds out, he’ll be afraid to stay by your side. He’ll leave you again… Your Highness, even for his sake, can’t you show a little mercy…”
For the first time that night, the Third Prince’s heart wavered. He suddenly recalled the scene from that morning—Mu Xueshi running alongside his horse. It replayed in his mind like a nightmare.
He has already chosen the other path Su Ruhan offered…
“He has already left me…” There was a trace of dazed emptiness in the Third Prince’s eyes.
Seeing her words take effect, Princess Wenyang hurried to press her advantage. “Your Highness, I can personally go and apologize to Young Master Xue. I’ll let him treat me the same way—even make me his servant if he wishes. Perhaps if he’s pleased, he’ll return to Your Highness’s side!!…”
The Third Prince’s gaze had already returned to its original gloom. That fleeting softness seemed never to have existed.
“…Look at that board. It clearly records every one of your crimes. However many there are, you will take that many cuts. How many exactly—you should know better than I do.” The Third Prince placed the dagger against her neck, slowly tracing along the goosebumps that rose there, murmuring, “There is no forgiveness here. Don’t even think of being equal to Mu Xueshi. What you did to him—when it’s returned to you, it will be far more than mere repayment…”
Princess Wenyang’s neck had gone rigid. The Third Prince suddenly twisted his hand—there was a sharp crack in the air, and she screamed in agony.
Her face was forced toward the board. The writing upon it was clear, each crime listed in detail. But as she saw how many there were, her entire body froze. How could the Third Prince know even the smallest details so clearly?
She had ordered poison to be placed in vegetables in the marketplace, intending for the servants of Chun Nuan Pavilion to buy them and cook them for Mu Xueshi. She hadn’t even told Qingyun about this—and the person she had sent had already been killed by her…
After Mu Xueshi was stabbed in the abdomen, she had coerced the imperial physician Li into secretly administering a drug that caused him daily agony, slowed his recovery, and left a hideous scar. Li’s son was still detained in her Wenyang Palace—how would he dare report this to the Third Prince…
In the days before the wedding, she had deliberately arranged for musical troupes to rehearse near Chun Nuan Pavilion every day—did that even count as a crime? And those performers were from Lubei—why would they betray her to the Third Prince…
…
With each line she read, the color drained further from Princess Wenyang’s face. Sweat covered her as the pain in her neck intensified. At one point, she could no longer endure it and cried out, “Why? Why is even executing Qingyun counted as a crime? She was just a servant—don’t I even have the right to kill a servant?”
The Third Prince answered without a trace of emotion, “Because what you did would make Xueshi sad.”
At that moment, Princess Wenyang felt her sanity collapse. She sobbed uncontrollably, filled with fear, sorrow, and resentment.
“Your Highness gives Mu Xueshi so much affection and love—can’t you show me even a little mercy? His feelings for you are sincere, and mine are not false either. Is Your Highness’s heart made of iron?”
The Third Prince sneered. “If your feelings for me are sincere, then fulfill the will of this blade in my hand. Now, there is only one way to prove your sincerity—that is to willingly accept death.”
“No… Your Highness..!!” Princess Wenyang screamed in terror. She hurriedly pointed to the last line on the board, trying to divert his attention.
“Your Highness… demolishing Linhan Palace wasn’t my idea—it was my imperial brother’s. I only said that to please you. If there is even a single lie, may I be struck by lightning. And… why is leveling that grave also counted as my crime? Your Highness agreed to it with the Emperor…”
“Because that was my mother’s grave…”
Princess Wenyang’s mind exploded.
“But Mu Xueshi said it was his mother’s—Your Highness, he framed me…”
Before she could finish, the Third Prince struck her mute acupoint. A faint crease appeared between his brows, as though he had grown impatient with her noise.
“Your last sentence actually reminded me of something. I cannot only avenge Xueshi—I have also long failed my mother. My mother was a kind and benevolent person. Even though you destroyed her grave, she would never wish to see me harm you because of it. So regarding my mother, I will deal with this lightly. I will not leave a single mark on your body.”
As he spoke, the Third Prince stepped away from the bed, his hand slowly reaching the wall as he pressed a hidden mechanism.
Princess Wenyang had intended to take the opportunity to roll off the bed and escape, but just as one leg reached the edge, the entire bed collapsed beneath her. She fell into a hollow space below. The pit was not very deep—just slightly lower than the ground—and since the bed itself had been hollow, the collapse turned it into a shallow pool.
【The following content is disturbing. Reader discretion advised.】
The moment Princess Wenyang fell, she felt an icy chill spread across her body. Beneath her was not solid ground, but something soft and slick. As the strange sensation spread over her entire body, she finally noticed a patterned snake coiling around her arm.
Her mouth opened wide in a silent scream, her face filled with sheer terror. But the Third Prince had sealed her acupoints—no sound could escape her throat. More and more snakes crawled over her. Every glance downward revealed that she was already buried among countless serpents in the pit. She tried to climb out, but dared not press her hands against the writhing bodies for support. The ground beneath her was too slippery—she slipped again and again, only to be swallowed back into the mass of snakes.
The Third Prince’s expression was like that of a demon, his smile cold and vicious.
“This is a snake pit I specially prepared for you. There are hundreds of snakes inside—different colors, different species—but none of them are venomous. I heard you fear snakes, so I made this for you, so you can properly enjoy what it feels like to be surrounded by them.”
Princess Wenyang was on the verge of losing her mind. Her hair was disheveled, her pupils unfocused, her body thrashing uncontrollably in the pit. Her eyes were tightly shut, not daring to look at the snakes crawling all over her. Waves of shivering overtook her, her entire body trembling violently. Yet the snakes only seemed to increase, and she sank deeper and deeper, until even her face was no longer spared. At last, she fainted.
But less than a quarter of an hour later, she was awakened again by the cold, nauseating sensation. This time, she couldn’t even close her eyes—two snakes had pressed their bellies against her eyelids, pinning them open. Forced to stare at the horrifying scene, her mind clung to a single thought:
Death… if I could die right now, it would be a mercy…
Yet when she tried to bite her tongue to end her life, her mouth filled with bitter, fishy fluid. Only then did she realize what she had bitten—a snake had somehow slithered into her mouth. She tried to spit it out, but couldn’t. She bit down in madness, but it wouldn’t sever. When she tried to pull it out with her hands, another snake crawled in the moment it left.
When she looked at the Third Prince again, her eyes were no different from those of a corpse.
The Third Prince’s expression did not change in the slightest. With a faint smile, he walked into a side chamber. When he returned, he held a dark-blue glass container. Inside it was a golden snake—thicker than the others, with a peculiar feature: near its head, its body split into two, forming a two-headed serpent.
This was a two-headed snake the Third Prince had raised for over a decade. It fed on rare herbs, even ancient parasitic creatures, and possessed a strong spiritual nature. He had once intended to use it to torment Mu Xueshi into submission, but later chose to keep it hidden away—only out of concern that Mu Xueshi might be frightened.
Though Princess Wenyang was already numb, her mind nearly blank, she still trembled at the sight of it.
The Third Prince gazed at the snake with appreciation and said softly, “Go into her body for me. Devour all her internal organs. That way, the executioner’s task will be much easier.”
Princess Wenyang froze completely in the snake pit, no longer even struggling.
As he spoke, the Third Prince opened the small door on the side of the glass container. The two-headed snake shot out swiftly, gliding toward the edge of the pit. The other snakes scattered in fear, retreating into the dense holes beneath the bed.
The Third Prince turned and walked out of the room. Sun Ye was standing outside. The Third Prince tossed the dagger into his hand and instructed him to summon the executioners.
Sun Ye had expected the Third Prince would not personally carry out the act. He quickly called in the executioners waiting outside to receive orders. They appeared gentle and mild, speaking politely—but the moment they stepped inside, the viciousness in their eyes was like a raging storm.
As the Third Prince passed by the room, a sudden noise came from within. Someone had accidentally released Princess Wenyang’s acupoint. She cried out desperately, “Your Highness! I have one more thing to say—you’ll regret it if you don’t listen…”
Her words were immediately drowned out by a shrill scream. The Third Prince did not stop walking. The sound faded further and further behind him.
Sun Ye followed behind, unease rising in his heart. Just then, he heard the Third Prince say, “At dawn tomorrow, deliver that painting—intact—to Hao Lin.”
Sun Ye hesitated briefly, then replied quietly, “Yes.”
By then, the two had already left Wenyang Palace, walking along a quiet stone path. After a few steps, the Third Prince suddenly stopped. Sun Ye halted behind him as well.
“When Xueshi left… was he alright?”
With his back to Sun Ye, his expression unreadable, the tone of his voice carried a trace of concern.
“He was… mostly fine. Just that when he saw Qingzhu and Qingya at Wenyang Palace, he was somewhat upset. But after making a fuss, Su Ruhan managed to coax him away.”
The Third Prince let out a cold snort in his heart. Just seeing two maids was enough to make him want to stay. Yet when it came to himself, Mu Xueshi had left without hesitation, choosing to go with Su Ruhan.
Should I worry about him… or be angry at him?
…But perhaps it was better this way. The palace would soon fall into chaos. As long as Mu Xueshi reached a safe place, there would be nothing left for him to worry about.
He sighed softly, then turned to Sun Ye.
“Dismiss all the servants from Wenyang Palace. Anyone showing suspicious behavior—kill them immediately. As for Qingya and Qingzhu… let them remain. Treat their injuries as soon as possible—make sure no lasting harm remains.”
Sun Ye was stunned, nearly thinking he had misheard. Since when did the Third Prince care about servants?
…And now, looking at him again, he seemed like a completely different person from the one outside the bridal chamber earlier.
The Third Prince had already walked ahead. Sun Ye stopped dwelling on it and quickly followed after him.
Futile Devices Scans 
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