Chapter 43: Side Story Part 1

Note: This chapter details the ‘Bad Endings’ of the original timeline/previous lives. It is a flashback/interlude.]

The Female Sovereign’s First Life Ending

Xu Zhaosu escaped from the dungeon one winter. The snow fell heavily that year. Her legs were useless, so a hidden guard carried her out. The snow reached their knees, and her limp legs dangled down, brushing the snow.

It was a bone-chilling cold. The hidden guard kept watch on their surroundings but failed to notice her mangled legs.

She couldn’t make a sound at a time like this. She clenched her teeth tightly and remained silent amid the icy winds and snow as they fled the Imperial City. They encountered a checkpoint, and the hidden guard knew they couldn’t escape carrying the Female Sovereign. He half-drew his sword, its gleaming blade reflecting the snow’s white glow. At that critical moment, someone came running from the direction of the Imperial Palace, announcing that the State Preceptor had summoned Garrison Commander Chen Tongling into the palace.

The swords were sheathed, and the impending clash of blades vanished into thin air.

The Female Sovereign, hidden in her cloak, felt her fingers tremble for an instant. She suddenly turned back in the night, but someone at her side grabbed her hand. An urgent voice whispered, “Your Majesty!”

She couldn’t look back again!

That was the last time she gazed upon the Imperial City—while Shi Qingyi was still alive.

The hidden guard hid her in the hold of a ship transporting southern fruits for the New Year. They arrived at the Borderlands after a perilous journey. The Eldest Princess had already arranged everything for her. The moment she escaped, the Borderlands generals threw off all restraint and rose in rebellion. In an instant, the beacons of war ignited across the Nine Provinces.

The campaign went extraordinarily smoothly, sweeping through like a broken dam. When they breached the Imperial City, she dragged her broken body to the front of Mingze Hall. The Female Sovereign, who had endured a thousand hardships, smiled with gentle madness. Then, holding a torch, she personally set Mingze Hall ablaze.

She stood fearlessly at the forefront amid the flames, waiting for the girl backed into a corner to emerge on her own. But she never came out.

Not until the fire licked at her skirt hem did the calm, mocking expression on her face finally freeze solid.

She had prepared for both possibilities: setting the fire to force her out, and sending people into the blaze to drag her out.

To die like that would be letting her off too easily. She should live under her control, stripped of all dignity and freedom, surviving only under her protection—like a parasitic vine.

What she hadn’t expected was that the power-hungry woman would rather die than submit to her.

Three years after Shi Qingyi’s death, rebels rose in the Borderlands. By then, her methods had grown utterly ruthless; few survived her grasp. Yet, with one glance, she spared that rebel woman.

The only reason: she looked just like Shi Qingyi.

The woman was confined to the palace as a body double, to accompany the sovereign. She gave her everything the best—on the condition that she imitate another person in every way.

The Former Dynasty Princess had once plotted for a long time to escape with her beloved, finally succeeding. But she was captured before she could leave the Imperial City.

When they dragged her back, her collarbones had been pierced, and two bloody holes under her ribs still dripped blood. She knelt and begged for mercy, tears flooding her eyes. After months, she finally submitted: “Please, please let him go. I’ll do anything—as long as you let him go, I’m willing—”

In the prison cell, the Former Dynasty Princess tremblingly removed her clothes, weeping like rain. But Xu Zhaosu stopped her after she shed only her outer robe. She gazed quietly at the bloody holes on the woman’s shoulders, frowning. Her voice carried a childish disappointment that slowly turned to anger.

“She doesn’t have these scars…”

Because of that one sentence, the Former Dynasty Princess was sent for skinning—a true torment. They peeled off a layer of skin from her entire body, blood soaking the pool. When she finally endured it, Xu Zhaosu lifted her chin with a withered flower stem, inspecting her like worthless merchandise. Her voice held confusion: “She has a sword-training scar on her neck, and a knife wound on her arm from once blocking a blade for me…”

A bad premonition surged in the Former Dynasty Princess’s heart.

Her instincts were correct. No sooner had Xu Zhaosu spoken than a sharp blade sliced across her neck and arm. Blood gushed out, and she wailed in agony—only to hear Xu Zhaosu’s regretful sigh echo in the vast hall: “No, the cuts are off…”

Later, she finally understood that Xu Zhaosu was a complete madwoman, recreating Shi Qingyi in every detail. She wouldn’t let her die, nor live properly. If the scars didn’t match, they healed them; once healed and flawless, they skinned her again and cut anew—until Xu Zhaosu was satisfied.

The skinning alone took months. Just when Xu Zhaosu deemed it perfect, she learned her beloved had been bisected, his corpse tossed into the mountains to feed the wolves and dogs, leaving no remains.

She stumbled to confront Xu Zhaosu. The madwoman had grown streaks of white hair in mere months. Seeing her despair and grief, she merely frowned and pressed a finger to her lips before she could speak, shushing her.

“Don’t cry. When you cry, you don’t look like her.”

Her smile was so gentle, yet utterly terrifying. The words of accusation stuck in the Former Dynasty Princess’s throat as she watched the sovereign smile and say, “Hold back those tears. With one man gone, there are others. Shed one more tear, and I’ll kill someone. Treason is unpardonable, isn’t it?”

Later, countless people met bloody ends on the spot. The Former Dynasty Princess finally held back her tears and fell silent.

Her beloved was dead, and she wasn’t even allowed to grieve.

She was merely a vessel for remembrance, not even a complete person. Later, she entertained other ideas—like using her resemblance to that someone for her own gain. She tried it once, but the ailing Xu Zhaosu saw through it instantly and personally slashed her face, severing her veins. She bled out and died.

“How could you compare to her?” In the end, she heard the sovereign’s low sigh, as if touching her reverse scale—her voice venomously terrifying.

Her death was agonizing. She watched her blood drain away, death descending bit by bit, enveloping her entirely.

Xu Zhaosu always thought there was no such coincidence in the world—how could someone look exactly alike?

Only after Shi Qingyi’s death did she gradually learn the truth: Shi Qingyi had been the Former Dynasty Princess’s body double for ten years. So, she made the Former Dynasty Princess live forever in Shi Qingyi’s shadow.

Deprived of freedom and humanity, existing as Shi Qingyi’s shadow.

Those years were true torment for the Former Dynasty Princess. She couldn’t even speak, because it wasn’t Shi Qingyi’s voice. She wasn’t allowed to laugh, because Shi Qingyi didn’t like to. She had to stand in the snow all day in winter, because Shi Qingyi loved snowy days.

The mad sovereign couldn’t sleep at night and often made her stand on the city walls without closing her eyes all night. She herself would stand at the city gate, gazing back into the distance—sometimes all night.

Xu Zhaosu always wondered: the last time she fled the Imperial City, amid wind and snow, she turned back. The world was silent, blizzard raging, as if someone stood distantly on the city walls bidding farewell.

Her eyesight was poor; she always suspected it was a dream. So she made that person stand in repeatedly.

Later, she couldn’t tolerate an object trying to imitate or replace Qingyi. After years of torment, she finally killed her, letting her blood drip away drop by drop, then dumping the corpse in the mass grave.

The day the heroine died, the world seemed to crumble. In her dreams, she made a wish: if there was a second chance, she would personally ask that person if she had truly come to see her off.

The Top Student’s First Life Ending

Jiang Zhiyi lived a life of indifferent emotions. No familial love in childhood, and the “love” she thought she found in her youth was mere one-sided fancy. The image of that wild blonde girl leaning by the window, calling her disgusting, haunted her forever—etched into her bones.

Whether hate or love, no one affected her so profoundly.

After her full-body paralysis, her personality grew increasingly erratic. She spent a long time plotting revenge against Shi Qingyi: first bankrupting her father’s company, then using massive debts to force her compliance.

When Shi Qingyi came begging at a banquet, Jiang Zhiyi tilted her head, watching the former proud heiress bow to her. She revealed an innocent yet mocking expression, propping her chin contentedly: “It’s not impossible for me to let you off. Propose to me in public. Dare you?”

She intended to mock and humiliate her, to see humiliation on her face. But it failed; the woman walked out without hesitation.

Her face darkened like charcoal, the air around her freezing, when the woman returned—holding a huge bouquet of roses, kneeling on one knee: “Miss Jiang, will you marry me?”