Chapter 39: The Obsessive, Insatiable Royal Hostage x The Pampered, Arrogant Princess (39)

"Your Majesty, Princess Zhaoyang has arrived."

The piercing voice of the personal eunuch shattered the silence.

Emperor Chu An sat upon the dragon throne without lifting his head. As the words fell, the only sound remaining in the grand hall was the rustling of memorial documents being turned.

"This subject-daughter pays her respects to Your Imperial Father."

Zhaoyang curtsied in salutation, her peripheral vision catching the scattered confidential letters on the desk—precisely the roster investigated and verified by the Imperial City Guard detailing those who had entered and exited the Bureau of Palace Attire days prior.

Emperor Chu An picked up the booklet and flung it down at Zhaoyang's feet.

"Explain."

The unangered yet formidable demeanor sent a chill down one's spine.

Zhaoyang dropped to her knees with a dull thud.

"Imperial Father, what is this?"

Watching her feign composure, Emperor Chu An saw a dark, freezing fury churning within the depths of his eyes.

He slowly rose to his feet, stepping closer with every stride until his shadow completely enveloped the kneeling Zhaoyang.

"Feigning ignorance?"

He bent down and pinched her chin, the pressure of his fingertips threatening to crush her bones.

"This is the log of entries and exits from the Bureau of Palace Attire. Zhaoyang, explain to me why your name is on it?"

"Im... Imperial Father, this subject-daughter merely went to find a seamstress to tailor a couple of garments."

"Tailor garments?"

Emperor Chu An let out a cold laugh. "You are my daughter; do you truly believe I do not know your character?"

Zhaoyang felt the taste of rust rise in the back of her throat, the chilling sharp edges of her jade ring nearly piercing her flesh.

"This subject-daughter would not dare deceive Your Imperial Father."

She forced herself to speak, her voice trembling.

"Do you take me for a fool?"

Emperor Chu An violently jerked Zhaoyang's head aside and swung his hand across her face in a vicious slap.

Zhaoyang's head was knocked sideways, her teeth aching, and a thread of blood seeping from the corner of her lips trickled down her chin.

He spun around, snatched the confidential letters from the desk, and smashed them fiercely into her face. The four characters "Princess Zhaoyang" written on the Xuan paper were savagely circled in glaring red cinnabar.

"Without conclusive evidence, do you think I would have come for you?!"

Zhaoyang curved the corners of her lips, pushed herself up from the floor, and leisurely smoothed down her hair, which had been disheveled by the blow.

"Yes, it was indeed done by this subject-daughter."

Emperor Chu An had not expected her to drop the pretense so easily, let alone show not a shred of remorse.

"You still dare to admit it?"

Zhaoyang licked the corner of her mouth. The salty, metallic taste of blood excited her, causing every nerve in her body to pulse wildly.

"Imperial Father has already judged this subject-daughter guilty. What difference does it make whether I admit it or not?"

"Very well. As expected of my fine daughter."

Emperor Chu An's eyes surged with a murderous intent. "Just like that vile creature who crawled onto my dragon bed."

Zhaoyang's pupils contracted slightly, and she abruptly curled her lips into a smile.

"Do you even have the right to mention my mother?"

Her tone of questioning was soft yet exceptionally clear and sharp, piercing straight into Emperor Chu An's heart.

"You..."

Zhaoyang stepped forward, closing the distance. "You say my mother lacked all modesty and shame, crawling onto the dragon bed to seduce you, but what about you?"

She laughed with biting mockery. "Were you dead? No, if you were dead, you wouldn't have had the strength for such matters."

Emperor Chu An was so startled by her rebellious and blasphemous words that he involuntarily retreated until his spine struck the golden dragon-entwined pillar.

"You were simply taking all comers, enjoying my mother's service on one hand while despising her lowly birth on the other, believing she soiled your noble lineage!"

"It is utterly laughable."

She laughed until tears welled in her eyes.

The palace attendants all whispered that her birth mother was consumed by ambition, utterly devoid of propriety, righteousness, and shame. Yet without a man, how could a single woman manage to climb the dragon bed and conceive a dragon seed?

The most shameless one of all was the high and mighty Emperor Chu An sitting upon the dragon throne!

Her Imperial Father!

How ironic.

Lacking the courage to rebuke or mock a sovereign of the realm, they projected every foul and filthy accusation onto a woman.

They degraded her lineage, defiled her body, and ground her down beneath their heels until she could never rise again.

"Insolent! Insolent!"

Emperor Chu An reached his breaking point, rage surging straight to his chest as he looked at Zhaoyang with a gaze completely devoid of pity.

He could have pretended he never had this daughter, letting her survive somehow within the deep palace walls, but she should never, ever have set her sights on his imperial heir.

As a woman, she actually dared to harbor delusions of interfering in state affairs and resorting to vicious means to harm others!

"I have indulged you far too much."

Emperor Chu An shook his head, a final decision settling in his mind.

Zhaoyang smiled and asked, "Imperial Father, are you going to kill me?"

Emperor Chu An sighed softly. "If you must blame someone, blame yourself for seeking your own destruction."

Zhaoyang was entirely unsurprised by this outcome. Her temples throbbed as her excitement made it impossible to control the trembling in her fingers.

"Come..."

Bang!

Zhaoyang snatched up the gilded incense burner beside her and smashed it with all her might against Emperor Chu An's head.

Fresh blood splattered everywhere, spraying across Zhaoyang's face and lending her an eerie, enchanting beauty.

Emperor Chu An's eyes widened in shock as his limbs went limp and he collapsed. Amidst his involuntary muscle spasms and convulsions, a vast pool of red began to seep out from beneath his head.

"Ugh... You... You..."

Blood choked his windpipe, causing him to cough up a spray of crimson into the air, unable to utter a single complete sentence.

Zhaoyang crouched down beside him, the vivid scarlet staining her eyes striking and terrifying.

She used her sleeve to wipe the blood from Emperor Chu An's face, her voice carrying a trace of faux pity.

"I forgot to tell you, Imperial Father."

Emperor Chu An stared at her with split-eyed rage, his eyeballs bulging as if they might burst.

"Shen Jingmu's defense map—I was the one who gave it to him."

She blinked playfully, her eyes curving into the hints of a smile.

"Haven't you grown weary of sitting upon the throne of Great Chu? How about letting someone else sit on it for a change?"

Emperor Chu An gathered the very last ounce of his remaining strength and grabbed her collar.

*Choke her to death...*

*I must choke her to death...*

Yet his trembling fingers could muster not an ounce of force.

Zhaoyang looked at him in mock surprise. "Look at you, you're so excited you can't even speak?"

"Ugh... cough... ugh..."

"You must be tired, Imperial Father. This subject-daughter will send you to your eternal rest."

As her words fell, amidst Emperor Chu An's rapidly dilating pupils, Zhaoyang raised the incense burner once more and struck down with furious force.

Once. Twice.

Brain matter mixed with blood splattered in all directions, adding several vibrant strokes of color to Zhaoyang's gown.

Not until Emperor Chu An no longer resembled a human shape, with his bare skull caked in blood and mud exposed to the air, did Zhaoyang finally toss away the bloody incense burner.

Hearing the commotion, Eunuch Su burst into the room and was frightened out of his wits.

"Yo... Your Majesty!"

Having never witnessed such a gory spectacle in his life, he instantly wet his court robes, stepping forward with trembling, damp footsteps.

"Princess Zhaoyang, you... how dare you?!"

Had it not been for the bright yellow dragon robe, he would have been utterly unable to tell what manner of filthy remnant lay upon the floor.

Zhaoyang lifted her eyelids and cast a cool, detached glance at his way.

"Imperial Father is tired and has gone to rest early. Does Eunuch Su have any objections?"

Eunuch Su was so dumbfounded he could not speak. His gaze fell upon the blood-stained incense burner, and he turned to flee.

Bang!

Zhaoyang gave chase, snatched up the incense burner, and smashed it against the back of his head.

Eunuch Su convulsed and collapsed.

Lowering her gaze, she kicked the body aside, turned around, and slowly seated herself before the bronze mirror to wipe the stains of filthy blood from her face.

The scalding brain matter had already cooled, and in the wake of her catharsis came a creeping, frantic chill rising from the depths of her stomach.

The more sickening it felt, the more exhilarated Zhaoyang became—an ecstasy welling up from the very marrow of her bones.

She had waited for this day for so very long.