Chapter 62: The Sickly Prime Minister, Poisoned to Death by Her Beloved Part 2

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That night, Shi Qingyi slept restlessly for some reason. The next day was a rare sunny one. When she woke at mid-morning, Xiao Jinse was already by the bed reviewing documents. The woman was heartbreakingly thin, her side profile frail, her waist so slender it could be spanned by one hand.

Xiao Jinse had just finished handling the matters at hand when she heard the movement beside her. She set down the memorial and went to the small table nearby to bring over a bowl of sweet soup, blowing on a spoonful.

“Your Highness is awake. Are you hungry?”

Shi Qingyi lifted her eyes to look at her, her gaze falling on the memorial nearby. Her phoenix eyes held a faint glint as she sneered coldly. “The Prime Minister truly is devoted to the people.”

What time was it? She was this sick, half-dead, and last night she had even…

Even like that—and still clinging to power, refusing to let go. Just like her father and brother who worked themselves to death. What she hated most in life was probably Xiao Jinse’s wild ambition—

Xiao Jinse paused, then closed her eyes helplessly and gave the Eldest Princess a bitter smile, her voice low like a sigh. “Your Highness has endured your disgust to accompany me for so long—isn’t it all for this?”

The memorial in her hand unfurled, marked with vermilion ink in her own hand. It was a release document bearing a name: Gu Ciyan.

The charges were listed extensively, making Shi Qingyi’s eyelids twitch. The gravest was harboring private troops outside, a crime heavy enough to exterminate nine clans. An ordinary woman wouldn’t dare, but this was Gu Ciyan, so she did.

After all, she was an extraordinary woman, devoted to following the young Emperor to eliminate traitors, restore her family, and finally achieve her destined romance with him after years as childhood sweethearts.

These private troops were, per the plot, meant to become the Emperor’s key asset later, but now they were nipped in the bud by Xiao Jinse.

“This is a grave crime. If Your Highness isn’t here for this, I’ll handle it impartially.”

The System trembled in her ear. “Host, this is the female lead…”

If the female lead dies, the world collapses, and we’re doomed anyway.

Shi Qingyi: “…”

After hesitating, she spoke with difficulty. “This Princess is hungry.”

As expected, Xiao Jinse yielded graciously, skipping the topic as she wished. She closed the memorial, brought the sweet soup over, scooped a spoonful, blew it cool, and fed it to her mouth. “Your Highness, wait a bit longer, and we’ll head back to the mansion.”

Even under the blazing sun, she felt this place was eerie. She still remembered the end of her previous life, when Her Highness was imprisoned here. She herself had been gravely ill then, barely lucid most of the time. Later, with medicine, she had struggled to stay alive, arranged everything, and was just about to rescue Her Highness when she learned Her Highness had already been executed. She had been so close—just a little more, and she could have saved her…

Her complexion was truly awful, ashen as if dripping water. Shi Qingyi said nothing, tacitly agreeing.

They didn’t have many peaceful days back at the Prime Minister’s Mansion. The southern barbarians, who had entered the capital and stayed for months, timed it perfectly with the autumn hunt and insisted on competing in hunting with Great End. The Little Emperor, bored anyway with state affairs handled by the Prime Minister, whimsically approved it.

Unprecedentedly advancing the autumn hunt by months violated ancestral rites, drawing widespread discontent among the courtiers. Xiao Jinse advised against it a few times, but her advice only made the Little Emperor more determined; no one could stop him.

That very evening, Shi Qingyi hugged the quilt and sweet-talked the Prime Minister a bit. Dazzled by beauty, the Prime Minister agreed to anything, leaving her confidants in the Prime Minister’s Mansion sighing and shaking their heads behind her back.

Though they had no expectations of the Prime Minister, she should at least have held out longer—watching the Eldest Princess awkwardly seek her out would have been something.

Due to the untimely season, the weather was still sweltering hot when they left the city for the hunt. Xiao Jinse and the Eldest Princess shared a carriage. Considering the Eldest Princess’s love for coolness, plenty of ice blocks had been added for relief, but after half a day, the Eldest Princess had them removed.

Her exact words weren’t pleasant: “Her body is already so weak—what’s the point of coming out for the hunt? Putting so much ice in the carriage; she might as well freeze into an idiot.”

The words were harsh, but it was at least a good deed. Xinyi was so moved that tears welled up as she swiftly cleared away the ice, silently thinking that even if her mouth was venomous, the Eldest Princess seemed to truly care about the Prime Minister.

Autumn hunts were typically grand events for the scions of great clans, a chance to see which young talent would take first place. With barbarians competing this year, it was even more intense. Within half a shichen of galloping steeds, good news arrived, but watching endlessly grew dull.

By the third day, Shi Qingyi refused to get out of bed, and Xiao Jinse kept her company by calling in sick. It wasn’t until dusk that the Eldest Princess appeared before the Prime Minister in a set of russet-red riding attire and snatched the book from her hands.

“The sun’s set. Let’s go for a walk.”

It was a rare chance to get out; staying cooped up in this rundown temporary palace was truly boring.

Xiao Jinse’s hands were suddenly empty, leaving her momentarily at a loss. She knew the Eldest Princess would want to go riding and had prepared saddle and whip early, but she hadn’t expected Shi Qingyi to take her along.

An invitation from her beloved—how could she refuse?

She stared blankly at the girl towering over her. She had always remembered that in her previous life, when they tormented each other, the Princess’s eyes had held only disgust and endless exhaustion when looking at her. The vibrancy and wildness that once dazzled and enchanted her had completely vanished from her body.

It had been a very, very long time since she had seen such vibrancy on the Eldest Princess. There was light in her eyes, not the dead stillness she carried in the Prime Minister’s Mansion.

Xiao Jinse had weak legs and feet, so mounting the horse wasn’t smooth. Shi Qingyi couldn’t bear to watch and reached out to pull her up. Perhaps not controlling her strength properly, she caused Chancellor Xiao to plunge headfirst into her embrace right there in front of the crowd.

Chancellor Xiao was thin-skinned and didn’t make a sound, unwilling to show her face.

The crowd: “……”

This loss of face was truly quite big. Shi Qingyi simply spurred her horse and rode off. The horse that Xiao Jinse had prepared for Shi Qingyi was one in a million, galloping as if wind whistled past their ears. Xiao Jinse paled with fright, her two hands clamping tightly around Shi Qingyi’s waist as she stuck firmly to her body, not daring to loosen even a fraction.

“Chancellor Xiao is someone who charged across battlefields on horseback—how is your courage so small?”

Shi Qingyi’s words sounded like mockery, but her hand honestly slowed the horse’s pace bit by bit. Awkwardly, she patted Xiao Jinse’s shoulder and soothed her warmly, “Don’t be afraid. We’ll just enjoy the breeze for a bit.”

The timid one hugged even tighter upon hearing this, leaving Xinyi—who trailed distantly behind them with a view of it all—wearing an utterly indescribable expression of astonishment.

Who could have imagined that the person now clinging fearfully to the Eldest Princess’s back had once charged through the Northern Frontier on horseback, slaying foes with deadly precision from a hundred paces away? At least a hundred barbarians had died by her hand. Back then, the barbarians had nicknamed her Asura, and even now, they inquired every year about exactly when Xiao Jinse would die.

But two years had passed, and now the Chancellor could neither ride a horse nor even mount one.

A single round sunset hung at the edge of the sky, its red clouds reflected upon the river below. The vast wilderness lay silent, save for the howl of the long wind.

Shi Qingyi let the horse graze freely, but for some reason, it suddenly went berserk. It kicked up all four hooves, neighed sharply, and bolted wildly toward the depths of the rugged mountains and dark forest shrouded in night.

In a distant mountain hollow, a man in a flowing black robe sat astride his horse. His cold eyes narrowed slightly, and as he lifted his sleeve, a thin line of golden light gleamed in the darkness. His voice carried an unclear mix of resentment and disappointment.

“She truly… still went soft…”

As expected, everything still had to rely on him.