Chapter 282:
As the year-end approached in Bianzhou City, the frost was heavy, and it was frighteningly cold.
The sky had not yet broken dawn, and everything around was pitch black, with all sounds silenced.
In a side room in the back courtyard of the Prefect’s Mansion.
Xie Wanning had her eyes tightly closed, still deep in sleep, but her brows were furrowed tightly, as if trapped in a nightmare.
She was indeed trapped in a nightmare.
Ever since that time she dreamed of Er Qing being beaten to death with a staff and spat blood in fury, she had only briefly dreamed of Lu Ziyan by the bedside with her old clothes hanging there, his gaze empty and lifeless.
And now, after many years apart, the long-lost dream had returned once more.
This time, Xie Wanning had no physical body, floating lightly.
Because she was already dead.
She witnessed the events after her own death.
The scenes were very blurry and not coherent.
First, the Lu Family back courtyard, a scene of chaos and panic.
She saw Lu Ziyan holding her corpse tightly, and because of the force, bloodstains seeped through his clothes, and only then did everyone realize he had wounds on his body, and they looked quite serious.
His wounds burst open, yet he was completely oblivious, his expression maniacal to the point of losing all human form.
Even the several madams of the Lu Family could not approach him.
For a full two days and two nights, he sat desiccated by the bed, holding the person in his arms, muttering to himself, until his old wounds flared up and he fainted, yet the grip in his hands never loosened.
The scene flashed, and countless soldiers and horses trampled through the Imperial City.
The general star, having lost his greatest weakness, had no more reservations, like a malevolent ghost descending upon the world, the Imperial City awash in blood.
Kill the elder brother, kill the father, ascend to the throne.
Even his identity as the legitimate prince was never made public.
In the eyes of the world’s myriad people, he was a genuine rebel and traitor.
But none of this mattered to him.
What mattered was when the young lady in the ice coffin would wake up.
He fell into madness, unwilling to accept the fact that she had left, and even hearing the word “dead” would make him want to kill.
Countless extraordinary people entered the palace.
Countless extraordinary people died.
Day after day, winter passed and spring came.
The effect of the ice coffin grew weaker and weaker, and the rotting stench of the corpse became increasingly obvious as summer approached.
Rumors spread throughout the realm that the Emperor had gone mad.
The Xie Family knelt together at the palace gate, begging to let their beloved daughter be laid to rest.
In this dream, Xie Wanning could not leave Lu Ziyan’s side, so this was the first time she saw her parents and elder brother after her incident.
Seeing her aged and haggard mother and father, she felt guilt and heartache.
By rights, she should blame Lu Ziyan.
It was all his fault.
But turning back to see that man, barely in his twenties, who had tormented himself into embarrassment, with graying temples, living like a walking dead, she couldn’t even muster resentment.
Only powerlessness.
Only powerlessness remained.
It turned out everything he said was true.
He had punished everyone who had harmed her, including himself.
On the second day that the Xie Family knelt unrelentingly at the palace gate, Lu Ziyan relented.
Xie Wanning also breathed a long sigh of relief.
She could only follow Lu Ziyan, and Lu Ziyan had to guard her corpse every day.
Seeing her own body with corpse spots was truly frightening.
She thought, once her corpse was placed in the imperial mausoleum, this man would finally return to normal.
But it did not happen.
The scene flashed again.
Yellow sand swirled, still a sky filled with blood.
This time, gongs and drums roared.
Hooves thundering, swords clashing, and the generals and soldiers’ roars rising higher and higher, resounding through the clouds.
Ruined walls and broken tiles, white bones scattered everywhere.
This was the Northern Frontier Battlefield.
The Great Khan’s generals and soldiers were massacring the city.
One slash after another, accompanied by the ceaseless curses of the Jin people being slaughtered, blood sprayed into the air, carried by the sweeping gale, dancing in the sky before slowly falling.
As if blood rain was falling.
