Chapter 71: The Sickly Prime Minister Poisoned to Death by Her Beloved

Back when everyone in the Prime Minister’s Mansion had been exasperated with her, they had all said that the Prime Minister turned into a complete tyrant whenever she was bewitched by beauty. Yet when it was truly time for her to lose her head, she sobered up instead.

That slender hand gripped the window frame tightly, her knuckles turning white. Outside, the wind and snow stretched endlessly. She paused for a moment, then turned back to seize Shi Qingyi’s hand, refusing to speak.

Her fingers pinched extremely tightly, yet she said nothing, merely calling her name.

“Qingyi… Your Highness…”

She called out chaotically until her throat went hoarse and no sound came out.

But she still refused to answer that question.

Between the world and me, which one would you choose?

As expected, Her Highness was still biased toward the Little Emperor, harboring other intentions.

But this time, no matter what, she would not open her mouth.

In her previous life, it had been just like this. She had chosen Her Highness and given up power, only to fail to protect her and die young instead. In this life, she absolutely could not repeat the same mistake.

Shi Qingyi ground her teeth. She had bullied her to an excessive degree. Xiao Jinse’s body was frail and could not withstand such stimulation. By midnight, things had gone too far, and she could barely catch her breath. Shi Qingyi held her and passed qi to her breath by breath until, after a good while, she finally recovered somewhat.

Her eyelashes were wet with tears, her throat so hoarse she could not speak. She merely clung to her neck, breathing laboriously.

—She had successfully dodged the crisis.

Xiao Jinse’s body was truly in poor condition. During the New Year period, even though she spent most of it resting in the mansion, she still had to receive those coming to pay New Year’s respects. Bedridden for so long, the officials who came to fawn over her always had to flatter her sincerely, praising her devotion to the country and the people. Even during the grand festival, she had to handle state affairs, falling ill until her voice grew hoarse.

The Eldest Princess sat behind the screen, nibbling on small pastries. Upon hearing this, she nearly choked. Xinyi thoughtfully handed her a cup of tea, afraid she would choke and make the Prime Minister worry.

The Little Emperor was to pay respects to the ancestors on the third day of the New Year, so the Eldest Princess chose the fourth to visit her father, mother, and brother at the imperial mausoleum.

On the fourth, a major incident arose in the Ministry of Justice, forcing Xiao Jinse to go take a look despite her exhaustion. When she returned, the mansion was empty. Her expression darkened instantly.

The air around her nearly froze solid. She had to endure it, give Her Highness space, give her freedom. She could not fall out with her, could not let her possessiveness grow too strong and make Her Highness sick of her—

With these thoughts in her mind, she walked step by step into the mansion with a grim face. Upon entering the gate, she suddenly exploded, kicking the door furiously, her eyes red with suppressed rage. “Why hasn’t anyone gone to find her?!”

Xinyi, who had anticipated this, quickly led people out to search. In less than an hour, she returned and reported that the Eldest Princess had gone to the imperial mausoleum.

Shi Qingyi’s mother had always been in poor health, but she had been cherished by her father throughout his life. In one generation, she had borne only her and her imperial brother. After her mother passed, her father followed a few years later, and then her short-lived imperial brother. Thus, their once lively family was gone.

During the New Year, lanterns and decorations lit up everywhere in celebration, but here it remained solemn and austere. Emperors and ministers might enjoy utmost glory in life, but in the end, it was all desolate.

When Xiao Jinse arrived, the Eldest Princess knelt in solemn palace attire before the mausoleum. Her personality was free-spirited, proud, and aloof; she rarely dressed so brilliantly. As the Eldest Princess of Great End, with her exceptional beauty and noble status, she exuded an inviolable majesty simply by standing there.

Xiao Jinse watched for a long while before slowly approaching and shifting the umbrella over her head. Fine snow began to fall from the sky, and their breaths formed white mist as they spoke.

On the ground lay many small, scattered items: pretty little gourds, cheap but exquisite hairpins, even a handful of yellow sand, with a jug of wine beside them.

“Your Highness, it’s snowing. It’s cold here. Let’s go back.”

Xiao Jinse crouched down to take her hand. The weather was frigid, and her hand was freezing. Xiao Jinse had thought she would pull away in front of the late emperor’s tomb, but unexpectedly, she allowed her to hold it, even stiffly gripping back a little.

“My mother used to love all sorts of hairpins. Every time I sneaked out of the palace to play, I would bring back little trinkets to make her happy. Father was stern to the outside world but always kind to me. My imperial brother was much older and always treated me extremely well.”

She paused, then gripped the wine jug with her other hand and took a swig. The liquor burned sharply, making Xiao Jinse’s eyelids tremble.

“My imperial brother actually wanted to go out and see the world too, but as the crown prince of a dynasty, he was destined from birth to stay here forever. When I was little and sneaked out to play, making Father and Mother frantic, they punished me by making me kneel in Taining Hall for hours. I secretly shed tears, and only my imperial brother came to check on me, bringing pastries and fruit wine, accompanying me as I copied books.”

As if recalling something, she forced a smile, tugging at the corner of her mouth before quickly suppressing it.

“My imperial brother wanted to leave—I knew it. On the day Father passed, the two of us stood before his coffin. My brother said that from then on, only he and I would be left in the world, depending on each other. He wanted me to stay, but he also knew I wanted to see the outside world. In the end, he let me go.”

“He said he hoped I would see the vast rivers and mountains, the prosperous empire, the peach blossoms of Jiangnan, and the desert sands for him. Meanwhile, he would follow Father’s last wishes, governing the country and never leaving.”

“The day I left, he saw me off from the city walls. He said that whenever I grew tired and wanted to return, he would always be waiting here…”

That promise went unfulfilled, for the Xuanling Emperor ascended the throne and died from assassination and illness less than three years later.

Xiao Jinse’s eyes deepened. She reached out and pulled the deeply grieving person into her arms. The Eldest Princess knelt there, naturally leaning on her shoulder as if finally finding support.

“That year my imperial brother passed, I was preparing to see the borderlands. In his final secret letter, delivered urgently over a thousand li, he begged me to return for the sake of the kingdom. He said he had let me down, unable to let me live a carefree life.”

“But how could it be him who let me down? As the Eldest Princess, I had always pursued my own selfish desires, leaving him to bear everything alone, exhausting himself to death by vomiting blood. On his deathbed, he entrusted the nephew and the kingdom to me. I could not disappoint him.”

Xiao Jinse’s hand clenched tighter, a vague premonition rising in her heart.

It was finally coming.

“Jinse,” she called her name. While sober, in this gentle and solemn tone, she asked, “Between the world and me, which would you choose?”

Silence stretched long. The entire mausoleum seemed filled only with the howling wind whistling past their ears. Xiao Jinse held this person—what a temptation it was?

Her Highness had softened her stance, asking her to choose between the world and herself. She was nearly swayed.

But no.

Because the choice did not exist. The emperor would not back down. The moment she let her guard down, neither she nor Her Highness would have a way to survive.

Yet now, holding this person, she revealed an extremely gentle smile, her voice almost coaxing: “Of course I choose you, Your Highness.”

All my thoughts and schemes, schemed over two lifetimes with painstaking effort, were for you alone.

Her hand embraced the Eldest Princess’s shoulder, stroking gently inch by inch until it gripped her neck—as if tightening it could kill her, or as if it were merely tender intimacy between lovers.

“You will promise me that in this lifetime, you will never usurp the throne.”

Her tone was solemn, her grip on Xiao Jinse’s hand nearly crushing her bones.

Xiao Jinse acted as if she felt no pain, letting her hold on while smiling gently: “I swear.”

She had already suffered her retribution, died a miserable death— she had been through it.

Her Highness harbored other intentions, trying to coax her into sparing the Little Emperor. She would instead seize control of the Little Emperor. As long as she held her weakness in her grasp, she could never leave her in this lifetime.

With these thoughts, she helped her up.

“Your Highness, it’s cold. Let me accompany you back, alright?”

However, what she promised was one thing, and what she did was another. Last year, her health had been poor, and she had wanted to lure Shi Qingyi back, so she had turned a blind eye to the Little Emperor’s faction’s expansion.

This year, she had finally tricked her back, and with the stimulation at the mausoleum…

—As expected, she still intended to compromise for the Little Emperor’s kingdom.

The Little Emperor’s planted agents were swiftly uprooted, starting from the ministries. In just a few days, half of the nails he had painstakingly placed last year were pulled. Dark currents surged in the court, and the festive New Year atmosphere gradually dissipated.

After the Eldest Princess fell asleep, Xiao Jinse propped her chin, gazing at her quietly. Very softly, in her ear, she spoke with a hint of sigh: “Your Highness, you must know that in this world, there is a phrase—having the best of both worlds.”

If she gave up one, she could not keep the other. Thus, she would not let go of either.

—Absolutely not.

The sleeping person seemed utterly unaware, merely rolling over. Xiao Jinse followed, pressing close and kissing her hairline reassuringly.

The System cat was shocked: “Good grief, she actually wants it all!”

“So, host, what now?”

Selling misery for so long had been pointless. She still wanted to usurp the throne. Her promises were like that—said and forgotten. Wasn’t this the legendary slag woman, deceiving someone into her grasp and then reneging?

The System fumed indignantly. Shi Qingyi lay with eyes open in the darkness, saying nothing, ready to sleep.

“Wait, host, why are you not surprised at all?”

“Because you know nothing about Xiao Jinse’s personality.”

As if you know it well. The System hesitated a moment before asking: “Chancellor Xiao is so unpredictable and capricious. What if one day she’s displeased and really kills the male and female leads?”

After all, she was already deceiving on promises to the host. It felt impossible to stop Chancellor Xiao now.

“I have my ways. Sleep.”

The Eldest Princess became a caged bird in the Prime Minister’s Mansion for two months, pampered by the Prime Minister until her ten fingers knew no toil. Xiao Jinse was profoundly scheming: she completely isolated external news, hid all her own actions from her, and deliberately released misleading hints every day—coaxing her that they would retire to the mountains together, that she was already planning to return power to the Little Emperor and resign.

Shi Qingyi: “…”

What could Shi Qingyi do? She played along every day, pretending ignorance, following her whims. By the second month, on her birthday, she suddenly vanished into thin air.

That night, Xiao Jinse nearly turned the entire Imperial City upside down but found no trace. In the end, standing on the wall amid howling gales, her voice seemed laced with venomous resentment: “Xiao Ji!”

She had hidden it so well—how had Her Highness found out? Only the emperor. Only the emperor, who had come to deliver birthday gifts!

Only he could have leaked the information. Only he could have colluded inside and out to let her escape.

Meanwhile, on the Long Wind Ancient Path, under the cold moonlight, a woman threw back her hood and spurred her horse into a gallop. The horse’s hooves shattered the moonlight, utterly shattering the precarious peace of the entire Imperial City.

The System was puzzled: “You had me help you escape, fine—but why this timing? Framing the male lead? Isn’t this increasing her blackening value?”

When Chancellor Xiao went mad, who would eat well?

The Eldest Princess wore black riding attire, her long hair tied into a neat ponytail whipping behind her in the moonlight and long wind, like a splash-ink landscape painting.

She seemed to smile faintly, gripping the reins, her voice laced with open exhilaration and aloof pride that inspired awe: “Compared to being controlled by the situation, I prefer to control it.”

As Xiao Jinse had said, this world did not only offer two choices; one could have the best of both worlds. Since Xiao Jinse was so greedy, why shouldn’t she be greedy too?

The kingdom and the beauty—Xiao Jinse wanted it all.

Unhappily for her, so did she.

—She wanted it all.