Chapter 60: The Sickly Prime Minister Poisoned to Death by Her Beloved

Xiao Jinse slept unusually soundly that night. When she awoke, it was already time for the morning court session the next day. Outside, Xinyi held her court robes, hesitating whether to enter.

In the past, the Prime Minister rarely stayed overnight in the Eldest Princess’s chambers. Afterward, everything would be a mess, and with her thin skin and proud nature, she refused to let the servants see or hear her in such a disheveled state. She always dismissed the staff to the outer areas, emptying the entire courtyard, and she never let her voice escape.

Only occasionally, when the Eldest Princess was truly furious, would she torment her on the bed. Once done, she would leave without a care for whether the Prime Minister could endure it. There had been a few times when, if Xinyi hadn’t boldly barged in and promptly fed her medicine, the Prime Minister might have slipped away unnoticed.

Yesterday, things had seemed harmonious, but who knew…

The Prime Minister hadn’t emerged on her own, so Xinyi grew anxious. After a long moment, she steeled herself and knocked lightly on the door from outside. “Prime Minister, it’s time to rise. If you don’t, you’ll miss the morning court today…”

Xiao Jinse: “…”

She gazed wordlessly at the person sleeping soundly while pinning down her sleeve, feeling the weight of her responsibility mingled with a faint numbness creeping up her scalp.

Everyone knew the Eldest Princess had a bad temper, especially toward the Prime Minister. She hardly ever showed her a kind face, except when she needed a favor.

In short, the Eldest Princess suffered from severe morning grumpiness.

With no response for a long time, Xinyi jolted inwardly, fearing her Prime Minister had fallen ill and lacked even the strength to speak. She murmured an apology for presuming to enter and carefully pushed open the door.

A layer of beaded curtains hung in the Eldest Princess’s room. The morning drizzle had yet to stop, and a long gust of wind rattled the curtains, sending the fine beads tinkling. The Prime Minister’s gentle gaze instantly turned icy.

Before Xinyi could even lift the curtain, she caught her mistress’s cold glare and instinctively dropped to her knees with a thud, raising the tray high above her head.

This time, the Prime Minister was properly sitting up—and, if her eyes didn’t deceive her, cradled in the Prime Minister’s arms was likely the Eldest Princess—

Who surely hadn’t risen yet.

Was this something she could witness?! Fortunately, the beaded curtain blocked the view. Her heart pounded as she marveled at the sun rising in the west while praying she hadn’t interrupted a rare tender moment between the Prime Minister and the Eldest Princess.

Shi Qingyi was a beauty of heavenly grace, with a lotus-like face and a slender, radiant figure. But she usually kept a cold expression, rarely smiling in the Prime Minister’s Mansion, which made her seem particularly unapproachable.

When asleep, she shed her thorny exterior, appearing soft and heart-melting. Unfortunately, such gentleness never lasted.

Xiao Jinse sighed, withdrawing the hand that had quietly brushed her temple, and settled back. She dared not leave, lest disturbing the sleeve disturb her, yet dared not draw closer, fearing her wrath upon waking.

Both mistress and servant waited anxiously for the Eldest Princess’s thunderous rage, already bracing for expulsion. Moments later, Xiao Jinse watched as the Princess’s long, thick lashes trembled, her eyes half-opening in a drowsy haze.

She was clearly irritated at being roused, her voice laced with annoyance. “Not going!”

Xiao Jinse and Xinyi both froze. Xiao Jinse reacted swiftly, lowering her voice and cupping her hand to her mouth as if coughing to mask it. “This Prime Minister is unwell today and will skip morning court.”

Xinyi’s mind lagged, but she instinctively obeyed her mistress and moved to retreat as if she’d never been there. Then, a lazy voice sounded from behind the curtain.

“Wait—”

It had come at last.

Xinyi shivered. She clearly hadn’t been fully awake earlier; now the outburst was imminent.

This was normal. Xiao Jinse even felt a subtle relief, quietly awaiting Shi Qingyi’s fury.

Through the beaded curtain, Shi Qingyi looked sleep-tousled, her long lashes fluttering, her voice weary and inscrutable. “What did you bring?”

On the tray, besides the Prime Minister’s official robes, were her life-saving medicines. The Prime Minister was a walking pharmacy, relying on tonics and pills daily to keep from collapsing.

“This is the Prime Minister’s official robes and…” Xinyi faltered, avoiding her mistress’s gaze, and whispered, “medicine for her heart condition and tonics to nourish her body.”

She dreaded the Princess’s cold laugh and a venomous “Serves her right” or worse—words the Princess had spat before. But after waiting, she saw a hand extend from the bed.

“Bring it here.”

Shi Qingyi slept restlessly; somehow during the night, she’d rolled to the outer side, pinning the Prime Minister into the inner corner. To pass the medicine, it had to go through her.

Xinyi dared not defy the Eldest Princess. Gritting her teeth, she lifted the curtain and entered, eyes fixed downward to avoid the disheveled bed, cheeks burning as she offered the tray.

There was also a small cup of warm water, in case the Prime Minister couldn’t swallow the pills.

Shi Qingyi took the medicine and cup from the tray, turned, and held them to Xiao Jinse’s lips. Her eyes half-lidded, her voice tinged with morning irritability. “Eat.”

Xiao Jinse’s eyes darkened profoundly, as if terrifying undercurrents surged within—a gaze that could stifle courtiers’ breaths on the hall floor. In the bedchamber, it earned a displeased glance from the Princess.

The Xiao who wielded power over the court immediately bowed her head. She stared in disbelief for a moment, then tentatively leaned in, swallowing the pill from Shi Qingyi’s hand and sipping the water, fearing she’d hold it too long and sour her mood.

The Princess, unused to serving others, did it fluidly. After feeding the medicine, she tossed the cup back and burrowed into the brocade quilt, curling up to sleep again. “Extinguish the lamp. This Princess needs more rest.”

As Xinyi exited, she felt like she trod on cotton clouds, unreal. She glanced at the sky—still early, no sun yet, just pattering rain from the eaves. Had it truly risen in the west?

The Prime Minister was always diligent. In the early years of the Great End’s crisis, no matter how ill, she never took leave. Only in the last two years, as her health crumbled and the situation stabilized, did she occasionally miss court when gravely sick. This was the first time like this.

For some reason, a line of poetry came to mind.

The spring night is short, the sun rises high; from then on, the ruler skips morning court.

Though the Prime Minister wasn’t the ruler, it inexplicably fit. And while the Eldest Princess was a disastrous beauty, that she deigned to care for their Prime Minister moved Xinyi to tears.

Silence filled the room. Xiao Jinse sat stunned for a long, long time before sighing softly and reaching out to stroke the Princess’s satin-smooth black hair.

She had fallen asleep again.

Teasing hearts into turmoil, then sinking into deep slumber, heedless of others’ states or sleep.

Just like years ago.

In the darkness, the Xiao who now held the world in her grasp spoke with helpless bitterness. “What am I to do with you…”

—

Chancellor Xiao skipped the entire day, staying home with the Eldest Princess. Given her frail health and rare absences, the courtiers grew deeply worried, fearing she was on her deathbed. Visitors nearly trampled the Prime Minister’s Mansion threshold.

Shi Qingyi couldn’t bear the constant announcements of arrivals and finally shoved Xiao out after noon.

The newly indulged Xiao Jinse: “…”

Thus, all the visiting officials that day learned the Prime Minister was fine physically but in foul spirits, her face darkly fearsome.

In the blink of an eye, the Emperor’s Longevity Festival arrived. The Little Emperor had prepared thoroughly and paced his bedchamber anxiously, fretting that Xiao Jinse might refuse. At last, he heard her carriage enter the palace.

The Little Emperor’s expression darkened instantly.

Without imperial permission, how could an ordinary official ride straight into the palace by carriage? Xiao Jinse truly paid him no mind anymore.

Though he itched with hatred inwardly, he maintained a facade. As the Prime Minister’s carriage reached Chengde Hall, he hurried out to greet them. Seeing Shi Qingyi in her crimson-purple palace attire, his eyes reddened with apparent familial joy.

And why not? No blood tied closer in the world. The imperial line had thinned over generations; by Shi Qingyi’s, only she and her brother remained. Her brother had left just the Little Emperor as his sole heir before passing.

Shi Qingyi was a decade younger than her brother. Born when his crown prince position was secure, she’d never vied for power. He’d doted on her, even allotting her fief per her preferences. If not for his dying wish, why would she return to the capital and be confined?

For the Emperor to personally welcome her from the hall was immense honor. The Little Emperor gripped Shi Qingyi’s hand, hesitating with a thousand words before blurting, “Aunt—”

Tears glistened as he squeezed repeatedly, feigning a look of unspoken grievances under a traitor’s watchful eye.

The traitorous Xiao Jinse sneered coldly, her eyes knifelike on the Little Emperor’s hand gripping Shi Qingyi’s. “It’s late, Your Majesty. Shall we enter?”

The Little Emperor looked grievously wronged, his heart shaken yet forcing a miserable smile. “The Prime Minister is right… quite right…”

He bore the air of one enduring humiliation.

The Longevity Festival banquet was grand, but the focus skewed. The barbarians had warred with the Great End for years—from initially overwhelming them to being driven deep into the grasslands in just three or four. The bloody lessons taught submission; they bowed, awaiting their next chance.

They’d come from afar to show sincerity in peace, yet throughout the banquet, their eyes fixated almost solely on the Prime Minister. Their toasts were earnest; when she demurred citing health, they didn’t press but downed bowl after bowl themselves. They even chatted about past battles, sparring verbally with the hawkish generals.

—The banquet’s true host, the Little Emperor, went ignored.

From mild smiles to ashen fury, the Little Emperor’s face darkened over a mere half-hour.

At the end, he couldn’t hold back and tearfully vented to Shi Qingyi.

His cries rang true, fretting over years apart: her health, her mood, a barrage of questions great and small. In good spirits, Shi Qingyi answered a couple, coolly watching her nephew’s ploys.

He started with her late brother, touched on his mother and grandfather, reminisced childhood tales to stir maternal affection. She played along until midway, sensing an icy stare.

The gaze was too overt; even the Little Emperor felt pinned. When Shi Qingyi turned, she saw Xiao Jinse calmly down her wine, expression unchanged.

The generals behind Xiao Jinse and Xinyi paled in horror, but it was too late.

—The wine in the Prime Minister’s cup was potent liquor from the barbarians’ tribute.

In past plots, Shi Qingyi had always backed the male lead regardless of her thoughts. Now, watching the boy’s earnest act, she found it crudely laughable.

He performed diligently, but alas—in the end, fearing his aunt threatened his throne and seeking a fatal blow to Xiao Jinse, he’d first eliminate his sole remaining kin.

—How ironic.

She tilted her head to enjoy more of the Little Emperor’s show when a clatter sounded nearby.

Xiao Jinse’s face was water-still, but eerie red crept into her eye corners, as if she’d reached her limit. Shadowy gloom brewed in her depths.

—Chancellor Xiao rose to her feet.