Chapter 5: Ye Qingmei’s Public Suicide! The Empress Seeks to Eradicate Every Last Root!
Outside the courtyard, the sudden roar of battle erupted like thunder from a clear sky, shattering the night’s silence. The glow of flames stained the window paper red as the clang of weapons, screams, and furious shouts tangled together.
The door burst open with a crash, and the thick stench of blood flooded in.
The Empress, leading a group of black-clad assassins, stormed inside with a face twisted in malice. Her gaze immediately locked onto Ye Qingmei, weakened on the bed, and the infant in her arms. Undisguised jealousy and venom filled her eyes.
“Ye Qingmei! Your time is up!”
Li Changsheng’s mind stirred—this woman was the ruler of the Emperor’s harem, one of the masterminds who had targeted Ye Qingmei out of sheer envy.
Her jealousy was almost naked, etched across her well-maintained but now grotesquely contorted face.
The Emperor’s favoritism toward Ye Qingmei had long been an open secret within and beyond the palace walls.
How many nights had the Emperor spent in Taiping Villa instead of his own imperial palace?
For the Empress, this was an unbearable humiliation.
Now, with the Emperor absent and Wu Zhu lured away, this was her perfect chance to eliminate her greatest rival!
The black-clad killers swiftly fanned out, sealing every exit. A cold, murderous aura filled the small birthing chamber.
“It’s you.” Ye Qingmei’s voice remained weak but eerily calm. She looked at the Empress as if she had long anticipated this moment.
The Empress yanked off her hood, revealing a face that might have been beautiful but was now distorted with hatred. “Ye Qingmei, you are clever. Pity—cleverness has been your downfall!”
Ignoring the taunt, Ye Qingmei glanced down at Li Changsheng in her arms, then at Fan Xian in the nearby crib. A faint, almost imperceptible plea colored her voice. “They’re innocent. Spare the children.”
“Spare them?” The Empress let out a shrill, mocking laugh, as if she’d heard the greatest joke. “The bastards you birthed—why should they live?!”
Madness flashed in her eyes as she flung out a hand. “Kill her! And the two brats with her!”
The nearest assassin grinned savagely, raising his steel blade high before slashing down at Ye Qingmei and the infant in her arms!
The blade gleamed coldly, mere moments from striking.
Alarm bells blared in Li Changsheng’s mind!
He wanted to move, to fight back—but this infant body refused to obey.
Deep in his soul, a faint power stirred… Golden Light Mantra! Now or never!
He focused every ounce of will, straining to summon that unfamiliar, seemingly innate energy.
Just as the blade was about to touch Ye Qingmei—
A thin but pure golden light erupted from Li Changsheng’s body!
A crisp metallic ring echoed as the sharp steel struck something indestructible. The blade shattered into fragments, scattering in all directions!
The assassin’s hands trembled violently from the recoil, his face slack with disbelief as he staggered back, clutching the broken hilt.
The room fell deathly silent.
Ye Qingmei looked down at the fading golden glow around her eldest son, shock and wonder flooding her eyes.
The Empress froze, then her expression darkened further with wariness and venom. “A demon! A true demon! A newborn with such powers?!”
Her killing intent surged. A child —if left alive—would become an unimaginable threat in the future!
“What are you waiting for?! Attack together! Kill them all!” she shrieked.
The assassins snapped out of their daze, greed and cruelty flashing in their eyes as they closed in once more.
Ye Qingmei watched the approaching enemies, then looked at her two sons—one in her arms, one in the crib. A sorrowful tenderness crossed her face.
She gently stroked Li Changsheng’s cheek, then gazed at Fan Xian from afar.
“Changsheng… Fanfan… Mother… won’t be able to watch you grow up…”
Her hand tightened around the dagger hidden beneath her pillow.
Li Changsheng saw it—and instantly understood her resolve.
No! He couldn’t let this happen!
He desperately tried to summon the Golden Light Mantra again, to conjure that life-saving radiance.
But the earlier burst seemed to have drained all energy from his fragile body. The golden light flickered weakly—then vanished.
After all… he was just a newborn.
A final resolve flashed in Ye Qingmei’s eyes. With one last, lingering look at her sons, she drove the dagger into her own throat.
Blood sprayed, staining her robes crimson and splashing onto Li Changsheng’s face.
Ye Qingmei’s body collapsed onto the bed, her eyes still fixed on her children—filled with endless longing and reluctance—before slowly dimming into emptiness.
Li Changsheng stared numbly at his mother’s cooling corpse.
The woman who had just given him life, who had granted him fleeting warmth, had died right before his eyes.
An indescribable grief and rage surged in his chest—but he forced it down.
Don’t cry. Crying won’t help.
His gaze shifted to the Empress. In those clear infant eyes, there was now only ice-cold hatred.
The Empress stared at Ye Qingmei’s lifeless body, momentarily stunned—then threw her head back in triumphant laughter. “Dead? Hahaha! Ye Qingmei, you’re finally dead! In the end, I won!”
Her laughter ceased abruptly as she turned to the two infants, her eyes brimming with cruelty.
“Kill those bastards! When you tear out the weeds, pull out the roots!”