Chapter Fifty: Royal Secrets (Part Two)

Tao Ming was not particularly surprised upon hearing the Seventh Prince’s words; in fact, there was a certain relief that her suspicions had been confirmed. She had already wondered in her heart whether the Heavenly Emperor had been replaced, for otherwise, the Emperor’s bizarre behavior was difficult to explain.

The Seventh Prince, seeing Tao Ming’s calm expression, was puzzled. “Why are you so composed?”

Not wanting to dampen his spirits, Tao Ming replied carefully, “If I told you I’d already guessed, would you believe me?”

He sighed, “You are truly perceptive!”

Tao Ming thought to herself, What has this got to do with cleverness? It’s just that you haven’t seen much of the world! After all, television dramas show this sort of thing all the time! But this wasn’t the moment to strike a blow to his confidence. She comforted him, “You simply hadn’t considered that possibility.”

“There’s no need to comfort me. What follows is truly shocking—I need a moment to steady myself.”

Tao Ming nodded, took out a can of beer, opened it, and handed it to him. Liquid courage—there was no better time for it.

The Seventh Prince took the beer, drank deeply, and recalled what the Third Prince had told him, a hint of fear flickering in his eyes.

Tao Ming waited quietly.

The Seventh Prince soon spoke again. “The Third Prince told me that one night, the Heavenly Emperor brought him into the palace. Instead of leading him to the Xuanling Hall, he took him quietly to a secluded palace. The place was heavily guarded—not even a dragon-sparrow could have flown inside.

Once inside, the Emperor led him into a room where a large bed lay, upon which several women slept in a deep, unbroken slumber. He was terrified and anxious, uncertain what the Emperor intended. Just as his nerves were about to fail him, the Emperor explained that each room in this palace housed several women. If he could impregnate them and they bore children, he would be richly rewarded.

For a man, such a thing ought to be intoxicating, and at first the Third Prince thought so too. Until one day, he opened a door and saw his own sister.

His sister, who was supposed to have disappeared, now lay before him with eyes tightly shut. Overwhelmed, he woke her and learned that all the missing consorts and princesses were here, along with women the Emperor had captured from outside. Most had already died from torment.

Every woman held here, once pregnant, was moved elsewhere. If the child was not a holy son or daughter, it was killed immediately.

Tao Ming’s stomach clenched, and she nearly retched, her face paling.

The Seventh Prince, seeing her reaction, steadied himself and continued, “The Third Prince, shocked and furious, tried to escape with his sister, but the Emperor appeared outside the door, sneered, saying, ‘I was careless.’ He severely wounded the Third Prince and threw him into a dungeon.”

“In the dungeon, there were others. The Third Prince crawled over and discovered that one man looked exactly like the Emperor. From him, he learned that the current Emperor was actually his twin, born together, but the previous Emperor considered twins unlucky and sent one away from the palace.

Later, when he became crown prince, he inadvertently discovered this and secretly brought his brother back. However, the brother was cruel and malicious, imprisoned him, and took his place as Emperor.”

Tao Ming sensed something amiss and interrupted, “Wait, how long has this Emperor been on the throne?”

The Seventh Prince thought for a moment. “Over twenty thousand years.”

“When did the first mass death of the princes occur?”

“I was only a few years old then—about a thousand years ago.”

The Seventh Prince now sensed a discrepancy himself. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m wondering if the Third Prince’s story is true. Or, if the man in the dungeon spoke truthfully. If both are telling the truth, why did the imposter Emperor act so normally for so long, only to suddenly change his nature?”

“And why didn’t the imposter kill the real Emperor in the dungeon? Why keep him alive?”

“Clearly, there are things neither the Third Prince nor that man know.”

Tao Ming scrutinized the Seventh Prince. “If the Third Prince’s story is true, why haven’t you been brought to the palace to father children?”

The Seventh Prince shuddered unconsciously. “Perhaps because I’m still young—the Third Prince is six or seven hundred years older than I am.”

“I have another question. How did the gravely wounded Third Prince escape the dungeon, leave the imperial city, and just happen to hide in your carriage?”

The Seventh Prince was taken aback. “He was dying and passed away before my eyes after telling me all this. He didn’t mention how he escaped.”

Tao Ming studied the Seventh Prince, trying to determine if he was telling the truth.

The Seventh Prince, sensing her doubt, declared, “I, Qiao Kongqing, swear here and now: if I have uttered a single falsehood, may thunder strike me dead and grant me no peace.”

Tao Ming asked, “Is Qiao Kongqing your real name?”

His face flushed with urgency. “It’s my only name!”

“All right, I believe you.”

Tao Ming mulled over the Seventh Prince’s words, her mind in chaos. She shook her head. “There are too many contradictions in this story. It’s impossible to make sense of it right now. Is this why you plan to rebel?”

The Seventh Prince nodded, then shook his head. “This only solidified my resolve. Before, confined in the palace, I knew nothing of the people’s lives. It wasn’t until I first left the city. That day, the Emperor ordered me to go to Luo Prefecture to help the garrison suppress the rebel citizens.”

His emotions surged. “I thought the people were making trouble deliberately, but when I arrived, I learned there had been a drought for months, crops withered, not a grain harvested, and corpses littered the land. The prefect did not open the granaries, but collected taxes as usual. How could the people not revolt?

I reported this to the Emperor, hoping he would open the granaries and provide relief. Instead, he summoned troops from nearby prefectures to join the garrison and slaughtered all the rebels.

I was furious, questioning the Emperor, and he responded coldly, ‘Why concern yourself with ants?’ I felt as if I’d fallen into an icy abyss, frozen and unable to move. The Emperor, seeing me thus, sent me to suppress people elsewhere.

The more I saw, the colder my heart grew. If I were one of those people, I too would rebel.

Soon after, the Emperor appointed over ten Heavenly Orators to hold grand assemblies throughout the Wei River region. From then on, there were no more uprisings.”

Tao Ming’s chest tightened; these matters were even more infuriating than those before.

The Seventh Prince was now calm, gazing silently at Tao Ming.

Her mind was a tangle of confusion.

All she wanted was to reach the imperial city with Ruan Ruan and Nuo Nuo, lift the restrictions on them, and return to Earth to live her life. She had never intended to linger by the Wei River.

Now, what the Seventh Prince said ignited a blaze in her heart, though it wasn’t yet enough to spur her to action.

The Seventh Prince spoke in a low voice, “I hope you will help me.”

Tao Ming looked at him. “I’m just an ordinary person, with no great talent or ambition. I’m only at the second level of the Moon Stage. What makes you so confident I could help you?”

The Seventh Prince’s expression was determined. “Thirteenth Uncle said that people from other worlds, even children, have insight far exceeding those of the Wei River. Moreover, you carry a divine object that lets you travel between worlds.”

Tao Ming hesitated. Just then, Ruan Ruan said, “Mama, my teacher said we should be eager to help others.”