Mingde felt like he had been seriously ill, but he didn't feel any pain at all. On the contrary, it was as if he was wrapped in warm cotton, floating softly in the void.

At first he was hungry, his throat burning and cracking from thirst, swallowing his own blood with every gulp. But later, slowly, the passage of time became very blurry. Outside the huge and cold window frames, the sun and moon rose and set, and in the dimness, the alternation of day and night changed several times without knowing.

The great hall was quiet, as if it had been forgotten by time, silently standing outside the world. It was clearly a majestic palace of wealth and heartlessness, but at this time it was like a warm shell, enveloping the small Shangguan Mingde curled up inside, dark but safe.

His vision had always been blurry. In the darkness, it seemed that even he himself had disappeared. He couldn't feel his hands and feet, and his whole body was floating lightly in a warm and humid world. He saw the Empress Mingrui in the portrait smiling and reaching out to him, and he saw his biological father whom he had never met standing with his back to him.

Although their faces were all blurry, he firmly believed that they were all so soft and warm, and they were all waiting for him, never giving up.

He took eager steps towards them, stumbling and crawling when he fell, getting closer bit by bit. However, they quickly moved away, as if they had just appeared for a moment and then disappeared into the endless darkness.

Mingde opened his mouth, and the sound from his throat was hoarse and faint, almost inaudible even to himself.

"...Mother!..."

"Come back, Mother!..."

They all left, and Mingde stood there. He reached out his hand, but no one could hold him.

The air seemed so heavy. He desperately reached out his hand, and finally grabbed someone. Looking up, it was the face of the Qianwan Emperor Li Ji, as cruel and fierce as the gloomy sky.

Mingde suddenly felt a lot of pain. The wounds that had been torn before, the gradually withering blood vessels, and the fragmented pain spread from every inch of his bones like vines, gradually enveloping him, suffocating him, and making his fragile lungs kneaded and squeezed, leaving no air at all.

Don't beat me, he murmured, don't beat me. Actually, I have never provoked you, I have never hurt you, so why do you always beat me?

He desperately hugged his head and curled himself into a small, cold corner, like a poor little insect, desperately hiding, even suppressing his crying sound to be very small, for fear of being heard, for fear of being pulled out from this temporarily safe corner and being crushed to ashes.

Please...

Please, just let me stay here...

You are majestic across the four seas, you are wealthy across the world, the entire country is yours, and the vast land all belongs to you. So can't you give me a very small corner?

Just let me stay, secretly living a life in a corner forgotten by the world, never provoking you for a lifetime, okay?...

The little noble in Qingzhen Palace had been burning with fever for three whole days, not eating or drinking, and was in a critical condition.

When the Qianwan Emperor heard this news during the morning court session, his whole face changed color and his entire body stiffened, as if he had been struck by lightning. Even hearing about border rebellions and inner palace changes would not make him show such an expression.

It was as if he could go berserk at any moment and tear the imperial physician beside him to pieces.

The ministers did not know what had happened. They only saw the imperial physician hurriedly come over and whisper a sentence to the Qianwan Emperor. Then the emperor, who was always calm and steady on his high throne, suddenly jumped up and rushed into the inner palace with big strides, without even having time to say a word.

No one dared to move. The minister who was reporting on the financial situation of the Ministry of Revenue this year was still kneeling on the ground, his mouth agape in shock. After half an hour, Eunuch Zhang came out from the inner palace and announced the emperor's decree.

If there are matters, postpone them. If there are no matters, dismiss the court. There is no need to come tomorrow, the morning court is cancelled.

Since the Qianwan Emperor ascended the throne, this was the first time he had ordered the court to be dismissed, and it lasted for seven days. The Ministry of Revenue changed to using blue seals.

The whole world knew that someone in the palace was ill. Some said it was the emperor who was ill, some said it was the empress or the empress dowager. Those in the know said it was the favored concubine who was ill.

Those with daughters in the palace inquired everywhere about who was ill, to the extent that it could make the emperor so anxious. But no matter how much they inquired, they could not find out. Among the imperial physicians summoned from the Imperial Physicians Academy to treat the illness, only Hu Zhicheng was there, and Hu Zhicheng had already been arranged to stay in Qingzhen Palace, not even showing his face.

By the fourth day, it was said that the palace had already secretly sent people to search for precious wood to make a coffin. A eunuch who came out from Qingzhen Palace got drunk and talked nonsense with his friends, mysteriously telling them: Last night, he heard someone crying in the bedchamber. The attendants all knew it was the emperor. It was said that he cried all night.

That crying sound was like being torn apart with flesh and blood, like the angry and painful howl of a beast being driven to a desperate situation, making people tremble with fear.

On the fifth day, Hu Zhicheng secretly reported that the person in Qingzhen Palace could not be saved, and asked the emperor to prepare for the funeral.

On the sixth day, the palace issued a decree: Amnesty across the country to pray for blessings; search for famous doctors everywhere. Anyone who could save a person from dying of weakness could be recruited into the palace. If the illness was cured, there would be heavy rewards.

The term "weakness" was actually very broad. If someone from a poor family got this illness, it was actually due to poor nutrition and overwork. As long as there were conditions for recuperation, it could eventually be cured.

In the palace with such wealth, there were almost no cases of getting this illness due to poor nutrition. It could only be due to long-term suppression and low mood, leading to illness from accumulated worries.

But judging from the degree of favor the patient in Qingzhen Palace received, they must have been treated like a precious treasure by the Qianwan Emperor, cherished like his own heart and liver. How could they die of weakness due to long-term suppression without relief?

It simply defied common sense.

On the seventh day, Hu Zhicheng was at his wit's end. If this dragged on any longer, his entire family would be torn to pieces by the Qianwan Emperor. He was not afraid of death, but he still had family and children. He could not drag his whole clan to accompany the little noble in the Qingzhen Palace on the road to the afterlife.

He said to the Qianwan Emperor, "Your Majesty, let's use ginseng to sustain his life. Every day we can keep him alive is a gain. As long as his fate is strong enough, if he can get through these few days, he can slowly recover in the future."

The Qianwan Emperor looked at Mingde. In the past two days, Mingde would still say some things in his coma, almost all calling for his mother, and occasionally for his father. But more often, they were fragmented, pleading sentences.

Begging him not to hit him, not to hurt him and such. Sometimes he couldn't speak, but as long as he was in his arms, this little thing would be so frightened that he would curl up into a tiny ball, stiff and not daring to move.

The Qianwan Emperor felt very pained. Since when did Mingde start to fear him so much?

Since when did his name become the nightmare of the person he loved the most, the one he wished he could hold carefully in his palm all day long?

"...If he wakes up this time...I will definitely spoil him well..."

The Qianwan Emperor gently stroked Mingde's cheek with his palm, so gently as if he was afraid of waking up a sweet dream.

"I want to let him do as he pleases. No one can hurt him, no pain will be inflicted on him. I want to let him enjoy the highest honor in the world. Even if he can't be crowned empress, he must be ten thousand times nobler than the empress..."

Hu Zhicheng suddenly felt that perhaps the one who needed treatment was not only the unconscious little noble lying on the bed. This emperor who ruled the world also needed someone to knock some sense into him with a stick.

A weak and bright little noble going crazy is not scary, because he is unarmed and poses no threat; however, when the emperor who holds the greatest power in the world also begins to go mad, then no one can stop him.

Hu Zhicheng wanted to say something, but the Qianwan Emperor suddenly turned his head and stopped him.

"Go to the imperial medical repository to get ginseng, and mix it with your secret recipe. As long as you can bring him back to life, I will reward you heavily."

When Mingde woke up, half a month had passed. He opened his eyes, feeling very dizzy, his body heavy, without even the strength to turn his head.

He raised his fingers slightly, and immediately the voice of the palace maid beside him rang out, filled with wild joy: "Young master, you're awake? Someone come! Imperial physician! Physician Hu! Quick, someone come, the young master is awake!"

With a bang, the door was pushed open, and then many people rushed in. Mingde closed his eyes, not listening to anything, not looking at anything.

Someone brought sweet thin porridge to his mouth, and someone tried to feed him medicine, but he kept his mouth tightly closed, rejecting everything from the outside world. Someone was persuading him, someone was talking incessantly, and there was also the sound of the housekeeper scolding the servants, everything was a chaotic buzz.

Mingde thought wearily, didn't you want to kill me? Then what's going on now? Seeing that I'm about to die, you won't let me die? Am I supposed to live and die at your whim since the day I was born?

I don't have to listen to you, I've had enough.

This time I won't obey you anymore.

Slowly the voices gradually disappeared and it became quiet around him again. Mingde seemed to have slept for a while. When he woke up and opened his eyes, the Qianwan Emperor was sitting by the bed, holding his hand and looking at the lines on his palm.

He moved and withdrew his hand. The Qianwan Emperor looked at him and smiled, brought over a bowl of porridge, scooped up a spoonful, patiently blew it cool, and brought it to his mouth: "Be good, eat it."

Mingde raised his hand and knocked over the bowl. With a crash, the porridge spilled all over the floor, staining the expensive carpet and lake silk.

The Qianwan Emperor paused, unexpectedly calm, as if he didn't mind at all, and turned to take a plate of locust flower cake, asking in a low voice, "Do you like this?"

Mingde raised his hand and gave it a fierce swipe. For him, it took all his strength, but for the Qianwan Emperor, it only made the plate wobble a little, with some crumbs of the cake spilling out, but it did not overturn.

The Qianwan Emperor looked at Mingde. Perhaps Mingde's face was too pale. He hesitated for a moment, then gently smashed the plate to the ground and knelt down himself.

"Mingde," the Qianwan Emperor said, "I was wrong. Even if I deserve a thousand cuts and ten thousand chops, lingering death and extermination of my clan, I beg you not to punish yourself for my mistakes, okay?"

Mingde closed his eyes and didn't say a word, his face cold as ice. After a long, long time, so long that he felt he had slept for a very long time, he woke up, opened his eyes, and the Qianwan Emperor Li Ji was still kneeling on the ground, holding his hand, staring at him silently.

Mingde suddenly felt it was very ridiculous, so he actually started laughing.

"...What are you looking at?"

The Qianwan Emperor was stunned for a moment, then replied gently, "Looking at you."

"It looks good, doesn't it?"

"Mm, yes."

"I will become ugly," Mingde said, his voice inevitably tinged with a hint of malice, "...I'm sick, bad-tempered, hold grudges, acerbic, pale as a ghost; I will grow up, grow old, slowly become ugly...then you will have nothing to look at."

Li Ji opened his mouth, but Mingde hoarsely interrupted, "No, you are the emperor, you will have more people, not everyone will be as troublesome as me...by then you will feel, ah, I'm free, I don't have to look at that hateful little bastard's face anymore...since that's the case, why bother putting on this posture now?"

Li Ji said, "No, I won't..."

"But by then I won't have any feelings anyway." Mingde turned his head away, "By that time, I might already be dead..."

His hair brushed against his neck, a bit of soft black, his skin translucently white, as if white as ice and snow.

Li Ji stared at him and slowly reached out to stroke his hair for a long, long time without saying a word.

From that day on, the Qingzhen Palace rarely allowed palace servants to attend to them. The Qianwan Emperor quickly learned how to take care of someone, and he even enjoyed it, holding Mingde tightly, wrapped in a thick quilt, watching the person in his arms with only a pointed little chin exposed. If he had time to go to the imperial kitchen, he might even have learned to make something for Mingde to eat with his own hands.

Mingde felt very surprised, and there was also a hint of indescribable anger. It was like throwing a hateful punch, only to have it fall into a pile of cotton. If the Qianwan Emperor had gotten angry, turned his face, or fought back at this time, he would have felt a little better.

He cursed and swore, but the Qianwan Emperor listened to him in silence, never talking back, as if he didn't take it to heart at all; he smashed things at will, and the Qianwan Emperor let him smash them. Priceless porcelain, calligraphy, paintings, pearls and jade were all destroyed at will. As long as he was happy, even using Wang Xizhi's original work to make a fire was no problem.

Even when he woke up to find himself curled up in the Qianwan Emperor's arms, he might suddenly jump up in a rage, frantically punching him with his fists, kicking him with his feet, and tearing at him with his teeth. This man would not say a word, only holding him tightly in his arms, letting him vent his anger.

One night, Mingde woke up with the Qianwan Emperor lying beside him. The moonlight shone through the window lattice, casting light on the man's unguarded face. He slept so soundly that even if a knife was pressed against his neck at this moment, he would not be startled awake.

...It would be easy... to kill him...

Mingde gripped his hair tightly. Reason told him that he could not do that, but he could not help it.

If... if it weren't for him... where would I be now?

...No matter what, I wouldn't have fallen to my current state...

As if possessed, he slowly grabbed the sword from under the pillow. It was not really a weapon for killing people. The Qianwan Emperor also knew there was such a thing under the pillow, but he just pretended not to know. Strictly speaking, this man did not really believe that the little thing he had raised would have the guts to wield a knife against him.

Mingde heard his own breathing, heavy and sluggish. He paused, then plunged down fiercely.

The Qianwan Emperor was startled awake by a sharp pain. He reflexively knocked the knife away with one hand and covered the wound on his waist with the other. Blood gushed out quickly, and he could feel his hand covered in blood.

Mingde was stunned for a moment, then silently hugged his head, like a little beast that was deceiving itself and avoiding reality.

The Qianwan Emperor wanted to reach out and touch him, but he suddenly got out of bed and ran out quickly. The Qianwan Emperor chased after him, holding his wound. In the long, moonlit corridor, he caught up with Mingde, and despite his resistance, held him tightly in his arms.

"It's... it's okay... look, it's just a small wound, it's okay... be good... it's late, don't be afraid..."

Mingde was shivering in his arms, visibly trembling.

The Qianwan Emperor kissed his forehead and comforted him over and over again, "It's okay... it's okay, don't be afraid..."

"Look, it's just a small wound..."

"If you don't say anything, I won't say anything, no one will know..."

"Let's go back, it's too cold outside... be good, good boy... let's go back..."

Mingde gradually calmed down and leaned obediently in his arms. The Qianwan Emperor then slowly, step by step, walked back, trying not to disturb him.

The moonlight shone on the stone pillars carved with nine-dragon patterns, giving off a clear, white light. In the shadows of the corner, Zhang Kuo watched them slowly disappear into the distance. He waved to the palace servant holding the medicine and said, "Go back."

The palace servant bowed and said, "Yes."

They were about to leave when Zhang Kuo suddenly said, "Wait."

After a long pause, he turned his face and said word by word, "If anyone finds out about the Emperor's injury..."

"--You will all wait for your heads to be relocated..."