Some of the deceased palace servants ended up in the mass grave.

A stillborn child was considered inauspicious, especially on the thirtieth day of the twelfth lunar month.

Bian Yunxin gave birth to a stillborn child that was thrown away before she could even see it. She completely broke down. Qiuyang Palace briefly enjoyed a moment of glory before reverting back to a dilapidated palace.

Six-year-old Liang Ye ended his barely happy childhood in the snow. The small side hall had lost both Qiu Gan and Nanny Tao, leaving him all alone.

“It’s all your fault,” Bian Yunxin’s single statement established his crime.

Perhaps it was because he was always clinging to Nanny Tao asking for food, or insisted on dragging Qiu Gan to play in the Imperial Garden that he caused their deaths, as well as the death of the brother in Bian Yunxin’s womb.

He was too young to understand the intrigues of the palace, but whenever he saw the faded vermilion palace walls, he would remember the blood on Nanny Tao and Qiu Gan’s bodies.

The room was too cold. He sat by the window wearing the small jacket Nanny Tao had made for him earlier, staring blankly at the snow while the sounds of Bian Yunxin throwing things and cursing came from the main hall.

He touched his still swollen cheek, slid off the couch, and sneaked out of Qiuyang Palace, treading through thick snow.

He wanted to find Nanny Tao and Qiu Gan.

It was at this time that Li Bu first met Liang Ye.

One could tell he had once been well cared for—a soft, white little dumpling, like a tangyuan freshly scooped from the pot. He crouched quietly on the road outside the Imperial Medical Courtyard, digging at stones with his little hands red from the cold.

He told his colleague that this was the Nineteenth Prince.

The palace was in a time of crisis. The Emperor was locked in a bitter power struggle in the front court with the inner court newly established by Cui Yuxian. The aristocratic, scholarly, and military factions were competing in a three-way contest, making the entire capital city unstable. The harem was even more treacherous. The Empress had a miscarriage, the Crown Prince was gravely ill, and the princes and princesses were meeting with frequent accidents. The number of dead being carried out of the palace every day was frightening to behold.

They were at the Imperial Medical Courtyard, where they had witnessed countless struggles between the various palaces. The surviving royal children all had capable consorts and powerful family backgrounds supporting them, but even so, with the Empress Dowager now wielding absolute power in the palace, it seemed few would be able to survive.

After all, even the Crown Prince, carefully protected by both the Emperor and Empress, had fallen victim.

Therefore, he looked at the Nineteenth Prince with some sympathy. Although this little Nineteenth Prince was neglected by both father and mother and completely inconspicuous, who knew if he might luckily survive in the end?

Ignoring his colleague’s warning, he walked up to Liang Ye.

“Little Highness, what are you looking for?” he asked, crouching in front of Liang Ye.

Liang Ye looked even smaller crouching on the ground. Hearing the question, he raised his head and stared blankly at him, then slowly lowered his gaze and continued digging at the round pebble buried in the ground, his fingertips bleeding from scraping.

Li Bu helped him dig out the pebble, wiped off the dirt, and placed it in his palm. “Does Your Highness want more?”

Liang Ye hesitantly nodded, “…One more.”

So Li Bu helped him dig out another one.

Liang Ye put the two pebbles in his small sleeve, but they rolled out. Li Bu smiled, picked them up, and placed one on each side in the pockets of his padded jacket. “Put them like this.”

Liang Ye nodded and after a moment’s hesitation said, “Want… a small one.”

He looked at Li Bu somewhat anxiously, and Li Bu found another small stone for him and put it in his pocket.

“It’s too cold outside. The Little Highness should go back soon,” Li Bu said, brushing the snow off his shoulders.

Liang Ye nodded, but as Li Bu started to leave, he crouched down and grabbed the hem of his robe. Li Bu turned back to look at him, puzzled.

“Mass grave,” Liang Ye asked, looking up at him. “Where is it?”

“It’s on the barren mountain thirty li from the capital suburbs,” Li Bu answered honestly, though puzzled by the question.

After that, Liang Ye came to this little path every few days to look at the stones. Li Bu saw that the bruises and wounds on the child’s body were increasing, but he didn’t dare to ask.

“Mother Consort hit me,” Liang Ye said when he saw Li Bu frowning at his face, crouching down unconcernedly to feel a stone. “Li Bu, I want this one.”

So Li Bu dug it out for him.

Finally, one day he summoned the courage to treat the child’s wounds. As he applied medicine to Liang Ye’s thin neck, he said, “This medicine has no smell, no color, and can also remove scars. Hide it, and next time you’re hurt, apply it secretly.”

Liang Ye clutched the small box and nodded. “Hungry.”

So Li Bu began secretly providing food as well.

His colleague complained that he was meddling in affairs that didn’t concern him. “Are you tired of living? He’s of noble birth—you’d better be careful not to bring disaster upon yourself.”

“He’s about the same age as my son,” Li Bu said, putting away the medicine and food he had brought for Liang Ye, showing no intention of giving up. “He’s a good child.”

Li Bu’s wife came from a powerful family. When they separated, she took advantage of Li Bu’s weak family background to take their son away. Li Bu had never remarried and naturally missed his son. His colleague sighed; good advice was wasted on those determined to court death, so he stopped trying to persuade him.

Liang Ye still went to the Imperial Garden occasionally, sometimes encountering the intimidating Emperor.

That enemy called Jian Hao stood beside Liang Hua, both appeared to be smiling and chatting happily.

“I hear Lord Jian recently had a son?” Liang Hua smiled, patting his shoulder.

“Thanks to Your Majesty and the Empress’s blessing,” Jian Hao replied perfunctorily.

Liang Ye had no idea what they were talking about.

“Zhen is in a good mood today. Why don’t Zhen bestow a name on him?” Liang Hua said.

Jian Hao looked very reluctant, but with so many people present, he couldn’t refuse. “For my son to receive a name from Your Majesty is a great honor.”

“Let Zhen think… how about the character ‘Ling’? What do you think?” Liang Hua smiled.

“Ling?” Jian Hao frowned.

“Zhen’s minister has misunderstood,” Liang Hua patted his shoulder, his smile growing even brighter. “It’s the ‘Ling’ from ‘lingchi’.”

Jian Hao’s face instantly darkened.

Liang Ye, hiding in the flowers, tilted his head in confusion. Jian Hao’s son was called Jian Ling, but which ‘Ling’ was the one from ‘lingchi’?

Unfortunately, before he could figure it out, and before he could think of how to get revenge, Jian Hao was charged with the crime of having illicit relations with imperial consorts and was sentenced to death by lingchi.

Liang Ye still didn’t understand what lingchi meant.

A few days later, Liang Ye finally found an opportunity to sneak into the convoy that was taking bodies out of the palace. He lay among the corpses and was thrown into the mass grave.

He searched for a long time on the vast hillside, eventually finding the incomplete remains of Qiu Gan and Nanny Tao. The wild dogs and crows on the mountain were fierce and unafraid of the living, barking and snarling at him.

Liang Ye summoned his courage and bared his teeth at the dogs in return, picking up small stones to throw at them. The wild dogs were provoked and lunged at him. Liang Ye turned and ran in fright, but tripped over a corpse. He struggled for a long time but couldn’t get up. When he looked back, the wild dogs had already fled with their tails between their legs.

Liang Ye looked around the empty field of corpses in confusion. Though trembling with fear, he returned to Qiu Gan and Nanny Tao’s side and took out the small stones from his jacket pockets.

“This is for Qiu Gan, this is for Nanny Tao,” he said, sitting on the cold corpses and carefully placing the stones. Finally, he took out the smallest one. “This is for little brother.”

He grasped Nanny Tao’s pale hand and said earnestly, “Nanny, take me with you and Qiu Gan.”

But Nanny Tao and Qiu Gan couldn’t respond to him. Soon the pack of wild dogs returned. He stood up to shield Qiu Gan and Nanny Tao, mimicking the wild dogs by snarling at them. “Go away! Filthy dogs!”

The wild dogs seemed to be wary of something, only daring to threaten him with low growls. Liang Ye thought his snarling was effective and moved forward even more, picking up a branch to drive them away. “Go away! Don’t eat Qiu Gan and Nanny!”

The dogs ran away again. Liang Ye looked at the bodies of Qiu Gan and Nanny Tao, pondered for a long time, and tried to make a fire using the method Qiu Gan had taught him. When he couldn’t succeed, he found a flint.

Liang Ye happily picked up the flint and started setting fires everywhere, completely unaware of the shocked eyes watching him from the shadows.

The barren mountain was dry, and the fire quickly engulfed the entire hill. Liang Ye had set the fire but forgotten to leave himself an escape route. In the end, he clutched the flint tight, curled up beside Qiu Gan and Nanny Tao, and fell asleep.

When he woke up, he was in an unfamiliar abandoned palace.

A woman with a resigned expression poked his cheek. “You little mud monkey, you’re quite bold, setting a mountain on fire.”

Liang Ye retreated frightened to the corner, watching her warily.

Wang Xusui smiled and rubbed his head vigorously, “Why don’t you recognize me anymore?”

Liang Ye pushed her hand away and bared his teeth at her fiercely.

“I’m not a wild dog,” Wang Xusui helplessly stretched out her arms to him. “Will you let mother hold you?”

Liang Ye pulled the blanket in front of him as a shield, shrinking back inside, only his head sticking out as he growled at her like a wild dog.

Wang Xusui smiled bitterly, “What happened to Qiu Gan and Nanny Tao was an accident. I was no match for your father, and I couldn’t even protect the two people closest to you. I’ve been afraid to see you all these years.”

Liang Ye watched her silently, remaining vigilant.

“This is part of the dowry my mother left me,” Wang Xusui opened a small sandalwood box containing a bluish-green jade pendant. “When you marry in the future, give this as a betrothal gift, or I’ll crawl out of my grave to find you.”

Liang Ye didn’t make a sound, only bared his teeth.

She then took out a pair of jade pendants. “These…let’s say they’re from your father and me together. In the future, give one to your wife, remember?”

While she was looking at the jade pendants, Liang Ye crawled off the bed and ran toward the door, bumping into a table. The small turtle figurines on top fell and hit his head. The two round little turtles captured his attention momentarily, allowing Wang Xusui to grab him by the collar.

“I’ve hidden these things in the Imperial Kitchen, behind the fifteen rotating bricks under the wall of the third chimney from the left. There’s a jar of pickled vegetables nearby—very salty, don’t eat them.” Wang Xusui didn’t care whether he remembered or was even listening; she just kept talking.

Liang Ye turned and bit her wrist. Though young, he used considerable force and soon tasted blood. But the expected pain didn’t come. When he had bitten Bian Yunxin like this, she had nearly beaten him to death.

Wang Xusui looked at him quietly. “Bian Yunxin treats you poorly so you can gain Cui’s trust. You once had Qiu Gan and Nanny Tao to protect you, but now you’ll have to rely on yourself. You’re too young to understand adult matters. I don’t know if sending you to Bian Yunxin was a wise decision, but no matter what, Nineteenth, both I and Liang Hua hope you can survive.”

Liang Ye tasted the blood in his mouth and slowly released his bite.

“I shouldn’t be telling you these things, but your mother seems to be in a hopeless situation, and at the end, I want to be selfish one last time.” Wang Xusu opened her arms to him, smiling a smile more painful than crying. “Will you call me mother?”

Liang Ye retreated a step warily, then turned and ran out of the abandoned palace.

When he saw Wang Xusui again, it was a year later.

He had found a path with pebbles and was crouching in the corner trying to dig out the largest one when he heard screams in the distance.

He looked up curiously and saw black-armored guards lining the palace walls. A woman in blue robes seemed to have truly transformed into the little butterfly on her phoenix crown, flying up into the sky.

After landing, she blossomed into a beautiful red flower.