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墨書 Inktalez
The guards had withdrawn, leaving her standing alone, her back against the dark palace walls that loomed like a range of green mountains, towering and imposing, as if they had severed all her thoughts and desires in this life.
Her white garments were already stained crimson with blood, the dark red pooling beneath her in a grotesque shape, resembling ink. That was the life of her unborn child, nearly six months along, which had finally departed from her on this absurd and ridiculous night.
Her face was as pale as paper, yet her cheeks bore a sickly flush. The wound at her collarbone had burst open again, blood flowing freely.
As if unable to bear the sight of such misery any longer, she raised her left hand to shield her eyes, but large tears rolled down between her fingers.
The years of love and affection had ultimately become a cruel joke.
All the vows exchanged were nothing more than meticulously calculated schemes and manipulations.
Guan Shubai, Guan Shubai, do you still not see the truth?
She let out a cold laugh, her face ghostly pale, yet her eyes shone with a chilling light. The smile at the corners of her mouth widened until she finally broke into a manic laugh, tears streaming down alongside her laughter—mocking her self-deception, ridiculing her foolish hopes, laughing at her unattainable dreams!
“Yan Lin! How could I have believed you?”
She shot him a cold glance, yet her lips still curled into a smile. Her voice was hoarse and eerie as she enunciated each word: “How could I have believed you?”
The emperor stood there, his eyes like obsidian—deep and dark as water—seemingly transparent yet concealing all emotions within. Not even the slightest ripple could be discerned.
How she had once been enamored with those eyes! But now, looking into them only brought an icy chill that seemed to freeze her very veins.
The handsome and sinister man, the one she had loved and believed in for so many years!
"Life is like a game of chess; there are no regrets in the moves we make. Xiaobai, you lost."
His voice was gentle and soothing, like a calm autumn lake, quietly resonating in the cold, desolate night. Yan Lin stood there, looking at the blood-soaked woman, speaking softly.
How familiar those words were; he had always enjoyed playing games, whether it was the power struggles in the court or the playful banter in private chambers.
She had desperately learned to match him in their games during his leisure time, but she always lost. Whenever she did, she would often sulk, and he would gently remind her, "No regrets in your moves; you lost."
Such sweet memories, yet now they felt like daggers piercing through her heart.
Guan Shubai stared at him fiercely, her eyes bloodshot with anger, gritting her teeth as she whispered, "Why?"
Yan Lin replied, "The time was right, the place was right, and so were you."
It felt as if a guillotine had suddenly severed all hope. In that moment, all past memories shattered into countless sharp arrows that pierced through her last vestige of stubbornness.
A lump of blood rose in her chest, heavy and suffocating; it hammered against her insides with a deep and dull pain.
So it was just this way—no reason, no conspiracy—she had simply appeared before him at the right time and place, coincidentally becoming the perfect pawn.
She helped the emperor conceal his ambitions and maintain balance within the harem. The outside world believed he was indulging in beauty and let their guard down, while she attracted all hostile gazes to protect the one he truly loved from the turmoil of the harem, allowing him to safely wait until he could seize control of the situation.
But it was like this, just like this.
"Why is it me?"
She clutched her chest, the pain in her abdomen had become numb. That was her child, the one she had longed for through countless days and nights, enduring bitter medicine just to wait for this child.
She still remembered how she lost her first child in the same way, back when the the Gu Family had already fallen.
He did not kill Gu Lanjin; he merely reduced her status.
But that woman was unwilling to accept it. During a small banquet, she pushed her down from the high steps. In that moment, she was terrified and clutched her belly tightly as she tumbled down the stairs.
Her head was bleeding, blood flowing freely, yet she paid no attention to it.
The candlelight that day illuminated her face brightly; it was so warm, yet she felt a chilling tremor within her.
There were so many people around, but not a single one could save her child.
In the end, that child still died.
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