IDWBE -Chapter 340 The Grudge of a Stolen Wife

Before coming to see the prince, he had already arranged for Yu Xiaoshi to lead the Sanhe soldiers to surround the ice storage. Now, they were just waiting for the prince’s order.

Lin Yi said, “Then let’s go immediately.”

No sooner had he spoken than He Lian came tumbling, scrambling up the city wall, gasping, “It’s bad! It’s really bad!”

“What’s bad?”

Xiao Xizi’s face darkened. “Speak properly! What kind of decorum is this in front of the prince? Do you want me to charge you with great disrespect?”

“Your Highness, it’s terrible—a major matter!”

He Lian seemed deaf to Xiao Xizi’s threat, continuing, “Ghost! There’s a ghost!”

“Ghost?”

Lin Yi snorted coldly. “Where would a ghost come from? Speak nonsense again and I’ll beat you to death.”

Though he had crossed into this world, he was still a staunch materialist!

“Truly, Your Highness! I saw the Empress!”

He Lian’s face was pale from shock, his words jumbled. “The Empress is in the ice storage!”

“The Empress is in the ice storage?”

Though Xiao Xizi had anticipated something, hearing it now still startled him. He snorted, “It’s just a corpse. Is that really worth making such a fuss?”

He Lian, crying, said, “Sir Tan, the Empress was standing right in front of me! Ghost—it must be a ghost!”

Xiao Xizi’s voice turned cold. “Could it be that the Empress isn’t dead?”

“Impossible!”

He Lian said with certainty, “I personally—”

Then he seemed to realize something, pausing, before laughing awkwardly, “I saw her hang herself, and I even helped take her down from the beam. Her whole body was cold, not a trace of breath—there’s no way she could have survived. And now she’s standing before me? If not a ghost, then what?”

“Maybe it’s some sort of demon or spirit?”

Lin Yi smiled lightly, unconcerned. “Guard the ice storage well. I’ll go see for myself and find out who dares play these shameful tricks under my nose.”

As soon as he spoke, a figure passed by him, heading straight for the ice storage.

The figure moved fast, face indistinct. Xiao Xizi vaguely thought it might be Ye Qiu.

Ye Qiu was a Grandmaster; if he went, half of Xiao Xizi’s worries would be eased.

Lin Yi descended the wall, not taking a sedan chair but riding a donkey, passing through layers of palace halls, following white jade railings, red walls, and yellow tiles, going deeper into the palace.

The further in he went, the more palace guards and Sanhe soldiers appeared. Lin Yi didn’t wait for them to kneel and began waving his hand.

By the time he reached the ice storage, a dense crowd had already gathered outside.

“Your Highness,” Yuwen She, knowing the prince was coming, was waiting at the door. Kneeling on one knee, he said, “I am incompetent and let Your Highness be alarmed.”

Lin Yi smirked. “Could it really be that the Empress has resurrected?”

Yuwen She replied, “Reporting to Your Highness, I did indeed see the Empress, but she is neither living nor a ghost—just a corpse, manipulated by some petty scoundrels using dark arts.”

Lin Yi asked, “There’s a living person inside?”

Yuwen She nodded. “Exactly. Your Highness, rest assured, I will capture this person and bring them to justice.”

Before he could continue, a series of harrowing screams interrupted him.

The blind man guarding Lin Yi frowned. “Your Highness, the person inside is highly skilled.”

Lin Yi said, “I don’t need you here. Go help Ye Qiu.”

“Yes.”

The blind man carefully descended the steps.

Yuwen She glanced at Lin Yi, gestured to the sides, and followed the blind man with his men.

Lin Yi lounged outside, waiting for half a stick of incense, but still no movement came. Finally, he could no longer wait.

Though normally fearful of death, he led Xiao Xizi directly into the chilling ice storage. Each step deepened the cold.

Twisting left and right under the escort of palace guards, passing long staircases, the path eventually opened up, the chill biting.

The first sight was massive blocks of ice stacked endlessly in rows.

After the blind man and Ye Qiu made way, Lin Yi saw the figure seated cross-legged—a bald monk in simple robes, with a kind face, age indiscernible.

He had his hands clasped, eyes half-closed, murmuring over a woman lying on the ground wearing a crown.

“In the three paths, the place of utmost suffering, may this light be seen, and all rest, free from anguish,” Lin Yi, hearing the monk’s chanting, could not catch the words fully, but could infer the scripture from a few keywords.

He glanced at the guards writhing and screaming around the monk. “Rescue them, don’t disturb the master’s rites.”

“Yes!”

Yuwen She called out, raising his broadsword, stepping carefully on the icy floor, leading the guards into the ice storage.

With careful vigilance, seeing the monk made no move, they exhaled, carrying the injured guards out and handing them to others, standing beside Lin Yi.

“My apologies, my apologies,” The monk suddenly opened his eyes, bowing to Lin Yi. “Greetings, Your Highness.”

Lin Yi smiled. “Where did Master cultivate?”

He dared not look directly at the Empress’s still-lifelike corpse.

No wonder He Lian had been terrified.

The body was uncanny—no resemblance to a corpse, almost indistinguishable from a sleeping living person.

“People strive for a breath of life, Buddha for a stick of incense,”

The monk glanced at the Empress. “I only wish to offer this incense to her. I hope Your Highness allows it.”

Yuwen She risked a closer look at the monk, then whispered to Lin Yi, “If I recall correctly, this is Fahui of the Vajra Platform. He was a disciple of Elder Wuxiang and once entered the palace with him.”

“Vajra Platform?”

Lin Yi never expected this had anything to do with the Vajra Platform.

“He’s a monk of the Vajra Platform,” He Lian added, “It’s said he was close to the emperor in his youth, even the emperor’s senior brother.”

“Does Master mean the Vajra Platform’s intentions?”

Lin Yi sighed. “I wonder what grudge Father has with Master, that he would humiliate him so.”

A person’s wife dies, fine—but to seize the corpse? Without a deep grudge, no one would do such a thing.

“The grudge of a stolen wife!”

Fahui admitted without hesitation.

“Could she have been Master’s lover?”

Lin Yi again glanced at the Empress on the floor.

“No,” the monk shook his head earnestly. “I was the one who stole his wife.”

“….”

Lin Yi was stunned, speechless for a moment.

He pictured his emperor father with a green hat on his head.

Could it be that the Crown Prince’s biological father was this monk?