Wan Zhen’er gritted her teeth, her expression fierce, with a bloodthirsty impulse: “If I spare your life, who will spare mine?”
Indeed, in the palace, it was either kill or be killed.
In the future, if Ji’s son became Emperor, Wan Zhen’er would likely meet a terrible end.
Wan Zhen’er coldly told her traitor: “Having served me for years, go and end yourself.”
Chun Yan kowtowed and left with reddened eyes.
She would die one way or another.
Wan Zhen’er only ordered her to take her own life, not involving her family, which was a small mercy.
An hour later, a eunuch reported to Wan Zhen’er that Chun Yan had died, “accidentally” falling into a well. Thus, Chun Yan became like countless unnamed palace maids, cremated after death, her ashes filling a dry well.
That night, the Emperor came to Wan Zhen’er’s bedchamber to check in.
Many years had passed, and the Emperor still could not break the habit of seeing Wan Zhen’er every day. Even if it was just a glance, listening to Wan Zhen’er’s high-spirited voice or just staying by Wan Zhener’s side, saying nothing and doing nothing, the Emperor felt a sense of security.
But this time, Wan Zhen’er did not let the Emperor see her and refused him at the gate.
Wan Zhen’er’s voice was full of sorrow: “Why does the Emperor still come to see me? Go and accompany your Concubine Ji instead.”
The Emperor felt guilty and hurriedly said: “My beloved concubine, I…”
Wan Zhen’er interrupted him: “Your Majesty, you don’t need to explain. I will no longer believe your words. You have forgotten the oaths you made to me. I have nothing more to say to the Emperor. In the future, I do not want to see the Emperor again. Your Majesty, take care of yourself.”
The Emperor stood outside the gate, anxiously: “My beloved concubine, open the door, let’s talk slowly.”
Wan Zhen’er did not open the door; she just cried.
At first, she only whimpered softly, but later, she broke into loud wails.
The Emperor listened, and his heart was torn. He was overwhelmed with emotion.
