FRGNM -Chapter 222 Tragic Beauty

Nangong Mo did not know her story, but seeing the expression on her face, he simply nodded.

With a light turn of her graceful figure, two slender swords appeared in her hands. Standing in the room, she was like a butterfly dancing lightly through the air. Her movements were soft and beautiful, a single dance enough to captivate an entire city.

It was as if she had returned to that moment long ago—the woman on the stage, dressed in a magnificent peach-colored dance gown, standing amid the drums and gongs, wielding twin swords. Amid thunderous applause, she performed the most beautiful dance of her life.

And the man in yellow robes, holding a feather fan and wearing a scholar’s cap, clutched a sheet of paper as flowing characters fell upon it. He gently took her slender hand and softly recited:

“By West Lake’s shores, West Lake’s love;
In Tower Beyond Towers, rain tolls the bells.
Painted corridors, embroidered boats, rainbow skirts in dance;
Little bridges, flowing streams—Ye Píngtíng.”

Beauty, Píngtíng—would you go away with me?
Píngtíng, would your dance be for me alone?

This… was the last time.

Clang—

The cold twin swords fell to the floor. The woman standing there looked at the man on the bed, the corners of her lips lifting faintly. Blood spilled from the corner of her mouth, just like that day…

“You are the one who killed me… you’re an assassin? Why, Píngtíng—am I not good enough?”

“It’s not that. The organization ordered it—you had to die. Otherwise… I would have died. Forgive me, Hua…”

The sharp sword stopped abruptly when it was only a finger’s breadth away from him. A blade pierced through her chest instead, nearly severing her heart meridian. She smiled—while he wept.

“I won’t allow you to die! Píngtíng, live!”

“I swear on my life—I will protect you. Please, wake up, Píngtíng…”

“Píngtíng!”

When she opened her eyes again, she was Consort Li of the inner palace, no longer the assassin Ye Píngtíng.

She had thought she would be with him forever. Yet that man only amused himself with other consorts, abandoning her in a corner of the harem.

She would never again see his face up close, never again read the poems he wrote for her—only watch him from afar. For him, she gave up her dignity, her pride. This was their agreement: once she awoke, she would be Consort Li, not Ye Píngtíng.

You said that if the promise were broken, you would never see me again.

Now I’ve been exposed. I broke the promise—just as you wished, I will never appear before you again…

Her standing figure trembled violently. Under the influence of the Gu poison, her entire body convulsed. Her meridians snapped inch by inch. She suddenly knelt to the ground, looking at the man on the bed, and smiled weakly.

This counts as… repaying you.

“You…” Nangong Mo froze slightly. He did not know who this woman truly was. Her earlier decisiveness, her gaze—none of it resembled that of an ordinary harem woman. Who was she?

Consort Xue suddenly seemed to realize something. She sprang up, laughing wildly. “So it’s you—so it was you! You should have died five years ago! You’re the assassin who tried to kill him, aren’t you? Who would’ve thought that five years later, you’d become a consort! Ye Píngtíng, you hid yourself very well!”

“And you—why did you harm him?” The kneeling woman stared at her indifferently as she spat out a mouthful of blood. Her entire skin turned a bluish purple as she struggled to endure it.

A sharp light flashed in Consort Xue’s eyes as she sneered. “So you already knew I poisoned him. Then why say it only now? Why put on this sentimental act?”

“In truth, I hated him more than anyone—so much that I wished him dead.” With a soft smile, Consort Li leaned against the window ledge, lightly holding that large hand as she reminisced.

“I was a dancer back then. He took a liking to me and brought me back, never knowing it was an arrangement by my organization—my mission was to kill him. He was actually a good man. On our wedding day, even knowing I was there to kill him, he didn’t fight back. He said he liked me and wouldn’t let me die. Ridiculous, isn’t it? I was pierced through the chest by his guard’s sword and nearly died.

“And he—he exhausted every means to save me. My organization thought I was dead and stopped searching for me. After I woke up, I thought I could be with him. But what I saw… was him with other women. From then on, I lived in the harem for five years.

“Do you know how it feels, watching the man you love be with other women? I wasn’t reconciled. I wasn’t willing to accept it. I infiltrated his palace again, but he seemed unwilling to touch me at all—nothing ever happened between us. I could only watch him be with you. I should thank your Gu poison—it clouded his mind and made him choose me. But still, I always feel… that it hurts here.”

She pointed lightly at her heart, smiling faintly as tears slid down her face. An assassin who had never known emotion—once she fell in love, there was always that one person lodged in her heart, impossible to let go.

A sharp gleam flashed in Consort Xue’s eyes as she sneered. “So what? You’re still an assassin!”

“My life was saved by him—consider it one life for another.” Her face turned deathly pale as her body trembled. “But you—using Gu to harm others—your crime is unforgivable. Crown Prince, I’ll leave the rest to you. I…”

Her steps faltered; she nearly collapsed.

Consort Xue laughed loudly. “Dream on! Do you really think you saved him? Wrong! Besides the Gu poison, he also has the Life-and-Death Gu. Once the Gu poison is drawn out, he’ll die anyway!”

“Is that so?” A cold, piercing voice rang out.

Consort Xue’s face changed drastically as she looked toward the doorway.

The doors, opened at some unknown moment, revealed two figures standing outside. Nangong Mo’s eyes lit up, and he instinctively curled his lips into a smile.

Holding a jade flute, melodious notes echoed through the hall. Luo Mingyu smiled faintly as he looked at the sleeping man. It was as if something inside the Emperor’s body responded to the flute, slowly surging outward.

In an instant, a fleshy worm fell to the ground, writhing painfully before going still.

“Give me your hand.” Looking at the woman on the floor, Ling Ruoxi crouched down. With her strength, she could seal Consort Li’s acupoints with Dou Qi and force the Gu poison out—she could still live.

However…

The woman on the ground shook her head. She turned to look at the man on the bed and smiled faintly. “No need. Thank you.”

“Why?” Ling Ruoxi froze, her heart jolting. From the beginning, she and Luo Mingyu had been outside. Life belonged to oneself—when facing death, who wouldn’t choose to live?

The woman lying there smiled gently, lacking even the strength to rise, resting her head on her arm. “What’s the point of waking up? What’s the point of living? I should have died five years ago. I’m glad I lived—but seeing him with other women… hehe. Death now is a kind of release for me. I have no regrets left…”

“Can you bear to see Imperial Grandfather blame himself and grieve?” Nangong Mo asked, fists clenched.

With a soft laugh, Consort Li slowly closed her eyes. “Let other women comfort his heart. I was merely a blemish in his life. If I die, he won’t fall into folly…”

Her voice grew fainter. In the end, the smiling woman lay quietly on the carpet, blood staining her body—like the dance gown she once wore, drawing everyone’s gaze.

She should be beautiful like this, lying so languidly.

Living… is sometimes just too exhausting.

Her heart had room for only him—no one else.

“Arrange the funeral.” Ling Ruoxi stood up calmly. Looking at Luo Mingyu, she didn’t feel any better herself. She hugged him tightly, afraid that one day he too might leave her.

“Guards—throw Consort Xue into prison. Execute her at noon!” Nangong Mo ordered coldly.

The guards immediately seized Consort Xue and dragged her away. Yet she sneered at the corpse.

“You think you’re the only one who knows jealousy? Wrong—women are all the same. Was I not jealous too? Do you think the Emperor loved us? Wrong. The one he loved most was you! Every time he called out, it was your name! Ye Píngtíng!”

She broke free and rushed forward, smashing herself into a red pillar. Looking at the woman before her, she smiled faintly.

The most miserable ones are women of imperial households—daring to love but not daring to speak; daring to hate, yet only able to use such methods to seek attention.

The losers were not you or me—
but women.

A light breeze rose beneath the pale moonlight. The woman sitting there stared ahead, feeling as though something was about to break through in her mind, yet she could never grasp it, only letting it slip away.

“Today’s events shook you?” Luo Mingyu asked softly, sitting beside her. He helplessly pulled Ling Ruoxi’s head against his chest. “No matter what, you’re mine. Don’t doubt it—you are my woman.”

He held her tightly. This was the love he could give—a harbor she could rely on.

Ling Ruoxi took a deep breath and smiled faintly. Such palace intrigue, such imperial life—she had seen it countless times on television. Only now did she understand how painful it was when experienced firsthand. Even as a bystander, her heart felt suffocated—what more for those involved?

But…

She was Ling Ruoxi, not them. The man she loved would never be the wrong one.

“It’s nothing—just some reflections. Consort Li will be buried in three days. Since she was only a secondary consort, it won’t be too elaborate. Tomorrow… let’s take Nangong Mo out for some air. His heart must be heavy too.”

After all, it wasn’t easy to accept a woman—yet he had accepted Consort Li, bridging things for his own grandfather.

With a faint smile, Luo Mingyu nodded. “Alright. Tomorrow we’ll let Nangong Mo get some fresh air. The timing’s about right anyway—we’ll leave the city tomorrow and see if we can catch that sly wild fox.”

“Huh? Will they come out?”

“Yes. Seven days have passed—they’ll definitely come out to look for food.”

“Then why do they have to wait seven days? What if they can’t finish that wild boar in seven days?”

“If they can’t finish it, it’ll spoil. They’re picky eaters—they won’t touch food that isn’t clean or fresh…”

“…”