On the day my mother died, it coincided with my fifth birthday.

Early in the morning, my father held me and took me out to buy fruits and pastries on the street. He also picked out a beautiful hair ornament with lotus pendant for my mother, her favorite.

He told me that my mother had a difficult childbirth when I was born and almost lost her life. He asked me to give her the hair ornament in the evening.

I smiled and agreed happily, knowing that my mother would be delighted to see the lotus pendant, her favorite.

My father asked me many questions about whether I had heard any gossip or rumors about my mother in school. When I nodded, he anxiously asked, "Does your mother treat you well?"

"Yes, my mother is very kind to me. I love her," I replied.

My father's tense expression relaxed a bit. He spoke softly to me, "Your mother has led a hard life, but she is the purest person in the world. You must listen to her and be filial to her for the rest of your life."

Just as I was about to agree, a servant boy stumbled over and ran towards us, his eyes full of panic. "Madam! Madam has died in the alley!" he shouted.

My father ignored me and ran forward, almost falling and scraping his face and hands. He staggered to his feet and continued running.

I cried and followed him, calling out "Father," but he didn't turn back.

My father pushed through the crowd at the alley entrance. He had always been gentle and never raised his voice, but now he had lost all his composure and manners. "Get away! Don't look! Don't look!" he screamed, tearing off his outer robe and covering my mother's body. He held her in his arms, helpless and distraught, and ran back to the mansion.

He couldn't stop sobbing and crying, like a homeless dog who had lost his family and had nowhere to go.

My father forbade me from seeing my mother's corpse. He locked himself in with her, and everyone said he had gone mad.

Five days later, he emerged from the room, gaunt and emaciated, having not taken a sip of water. Yet he calmly prepared for my mother's funeral.

My father had lost a lot of weight, but he looked even more handsome.

On the day of my mother's funeral, the princess arrived at our home, attired in extravagant and opulent clothing, with a layer of heavy makeup adorning her face.She was beautiful, radiant like the morning sun, and renowned as the most beautiful woman in Chang'an.

Despite her noble status and inherent haughtiness, she instantly became reserved when she saw my father, revealing only a trace of innocent girlish agitation.

My father handled the situation impeccably, and even the occasional polite remark would elicit a continuous smile from the princess's lips.

That night, after seeing the princess off, my father gripped my shoulders, knelt down, and looked up at me. "Did you see the princess's face clearly?" he asked.

I nodded. I was still young then, but for the first time, I understood hatred.

My father's expression remained unchanged. "Someday, I will peel off that face and give it to you to make a rattle drumhead. Do you want it?" he asked.

I shook my head and smiled sweetly. "No need for you to give it to me, Dad. I can make one myself."

My father smiled in satisfaction.

After the funeral of my mother, my father returned to the Imperial Academy to resume his duties. In the same red official robe, he always looked more dashing than others.

Every day when my father came home, he carried with him the fragrance of the Third Princess's clothing.

Half a year later, the princess's belly swelled, causing astonishment in the court and the country. Yet my father remained calm and continued to teach me to read and write.

When a woman is pregnant, no matter how loose her clothing is, it cannot hide the signs forever. Eventually, someone would catch a glimpse of the truth.

If the rumors spread, it would cause a stir throughout the city.

The Third Princess's reputation for immoral behavior before marriage spread throughout the palace and the outside world. Even the Imperial Council submitted a complaint.

One night, a woman dressed in palace attire knocked on the door of our mansion.

In the dead of night, I heard the woman sobbing, "My reputation is ruined, yet you still haven't asked the Emperor for my hand in marriage. Do you want me to die, Pei Lang?"

"Abort this child, and I will marry you," my father replied. "You don't want to be wearing your wedding dress with a big belly, do you? We can have more children in the future, but a wedding is only once in a lifetime."

"I'm scared..." the princess whimpered.

"What are you afraid of?" my father asked. "Do you want the Emperor to know it was me? If he does, what will become of my career? Princess, our fortunes are intertwined. I have no parents and can live with or without my official position. I'm doing this for your future."

"But how can I tell the Emperor..." the Third Princess sobbed, "He'll kill me..."

My father's voice seemed seductive as he said, "Abort this child and tell the Emperor that the father is a servant in your princess palace. When you ask to marry me, the Emperor might still be angry, but he'll agree. Not only that, he'll even promote me as compensation. If I have a higher position, won't you also benefit?"

With a few sweet words, my father easily calmed the Third Princess.

Aborting a child is harmful to the body. The next day, the princess's maid came to our house, crying that the princess was bleeding profusely after taking the medicine. She begged my father to go and see her.

My father sent the maid away, citing the many eyes and ears around.

Five days later, the Emperor summoned my father and forcibly arranged a marriage for him. He even promoted my father to a higher position. Outside, people said that my father had picked up a big, broken shoe.

But I knew that the rumor was spread by my father.

The Third Princess had once sent a broken shoe to my mother during my father and mother's wedding, mocking her for having been a prostitute and unworthy of being a Scholar's wife.

My father wanted her to suffer the same insults she had given to my mother.

On the day of my father's wedding, the preparations were hasty and slovenly. The Third Princess's wedding dress was borrowed from the eldest princess overnight.

She had originally set her sights on my mother's wedding dress, which my father had commissioned and had taken a year to complete. During that time, while studying, he had copied books for others to sell, solely to give my mother a surprise after passing the imperial examination.

The pearls on my mother's wedding dress were harvested by my father himself, accompanying the pearl divers into the sea.

When the Third Princess expressed her desire to wear my mother's wedding dress, my father's expression changed. He smiled sardonically and said, "Princess, are you comparing yourself to a prostitute?"

The Third Princess thought my father was flirting with her and pushed him away in embarrassment and annoyance. "I am a princess, how can I be compared to such a vile woman?"

The coldness in my father's eyes deepened. "Indeed, there is no comparison."

The princess then gave up the idea of wearing my mother's wedding dress. Perhaps she finally remembered that when she first saw my mother half a year ago, she spat at her and scolded, "You such a lowly person, how dare you wear the same color as me!"

She ordered her servants to strip my mother of her clothes. If my father hadn't arrived in time, my mother would have died of shame and indignation that day.

During the wedding ceremony, my father placed my mother's memorial tablet in the center, and the Third Princess's eyes reddened with anger.

My father covered his head and spoke weakly, "I dream of Yao'er every night, and it unsettles me. Besides, you are only a successor wife, it's not a big deal to pay respects. Just do it for me."

A fleeting sense of struggle appeared in the princess's eyes. "If she were from a decent family, it would be different, but she's of humble origins! And I'm a princess! How dare she deserve my respects!"

My father, with his black hair and red lips, his long eyelashes slowly drooping, and a faint blush around his eyes, was an uncommonly beautiful man.

The princess was dazed by my father's sorrowful gaze. The hall fell silent, and I could even hear the princess swallow.

My father's slender fingers rested on his lean waist, and a crimson silk sash wrapped around his jade-like fingers, making his already pale skin appear even more delicate and captivating.

He spoke sarcastically, "I thought the princess truly loved me, admired me, and wanted to spend her life with me. But it's just as I thought. The princess only sees me as a dispensable toy and doesn't care about my life or death. The wandering Taoist priest said that Yao'er holds a grudge and won't let go of me to be reborn."

He sighed softly and gently tugged the red sash tied around his waist. His powerful waist was immediately concealed by the loosened wedding robe.

My father took off his wedding robe, pursed his lips, and threw it to the ground. "If you're unwilling to pay respects to her, then this marriage is over. Whether I die soon or later, I'm going to die. Let Yao'er take me to Yama's palace instead. Why should you suffer and become a widow?"

The princess hurriedly picked up his wedding robe, tugged it towards him, and choked out, "Pei Lang, what are you saying? You're breaking my heart. How can I not care about your life or death! Fine, I'll pay respects. Put it on quickly and don't be angry anymore."

Only then did my father put on his wedding robe and perform the wedding ceremony with her. Afterwards, he coerced the princess, both gently and firmly, to offer tea in front of my mother's memorial tablet before sending her back to her room.

That night, my father added a sleeping draught to the princess's medicinal tonic for her miscarriage and held me outside the shrine where my mother's memorial tablet was placed, sitting there all night.

I asked my father why he didn't go inside.

My father stroked my head. In the moonlight, his face was as pale as a ghost, but his dark eyes were moist.

He gave me a wan smile and said, "Yao'er, be a good girl and go offer a stick of incense to your mother for me. I'm scared."

I didn't understand and asked, "Why are you scared, Daddy? Mommy loves you so much. Even if she's a ghost now, she'll bless you and me!"

I tugged my father's hand towards the shrine and said, "Don't be afraid of Mommy, Daddy. Mommy loves you. She won't hurt you!" My father's hand trembled, and he fell to the ground. He leaned against the threshold of the shrine and cried suppressedly. His slender shoulder blades made the red wedding robe bulge out, and he looked like a dying crane or a broken-necked swan, crying in agony.

"I have no face to see your mother again..."

The next morning, the princess asked her father where her wedding dress had gone, wondering why she couldn't find it.

Her father calmly ate his meal and replied indifferently, "I accidentally fell during the night and dirtied it, so I had to throw it away. I have a phobia of dirtiness, as you know."

Although the third princess was slightly dissatisfied, she didn't ask any further questions.

The wedding dress had actually been torn and burned by her father the previous night. In the glow of the fierce flames, he stood in his white robes, looking more ethereal than ever. The bright firelight illuminated his face, revealing the twisted and disgusted expression in his eyes. It was like a vicious dog baring its teeth, lurking in the darkness, ready to snap at the vulnerable neck of its enemy at any moment.

The princess sighed, "It's a shame that my father thinks I'm embarrassing and just wants to get this wedding over with quickly. This is only going to happen once in my lifetime, Pei Lang."

She looked at her father with hopeful eyes, the implication in her gaze unmistakable.

When her father married her mother years ago, he was just a penniless poor scholar who made a living by collecting herbs in the mountains and copying books for the wealthy.

Her mother was a renowned courtesan in Quzhou, a woman whose glances were coveted by princes and nobles, even at the cost of a fortune.

But she didn't want the riches and honors of a high-ranking family; she wanted true love.

She took out all her savings and gave them to her father, asking him to redeem her from her profession.

Her mother was actually afraid that her father would take the money and run, leaving her behind.

She was gambling, gambling on whether her father had true feelings for her.

Her mother's sisters had taken all their savings to give to their lovers, asking them to redeem them. But in the end, those men ran away with the money, and her mother's sisters, unable to bear the blow, committed suicide by jumping into a lake.

Fortunately, her mother's fate was better than her sisters's. She had gambled correctly. Her father, the poor scholar, had nothing but a full belly of ink and a sincere heart.

The white sash that her mother had prepared to commit suicide was not used. Instead, her father took it and cut it into several pieces. Each piece was unfolded, and with a brush in hand, he drew her mother's face on it.

The portrait of her mother under her father's brushstrokes was vivid and charming, like a fairy from heaven.

After her father redeemed her mother, the two of them simply held a wedding ceremony with heaven and earth as their witnesses.

Her mother was concerned about her status and didn't want to invite anyone, fearing embarrassment.

Although she didn't say it, her father understood.

Later, when her father passed the imperial examination and obtained an official position, he saved his salary, wanting to give her mother a dignified wedding ceremony and hold it again.

He knew that although her mother didn't say it, she desired it in her heart.

Originally, her father didn't intend to make a grand wedding with a long procession and loud music. He feared more than anyone else that her mother would be gossiped about.

But then the third princess dug up the past of her mother's former profession as a courtesan and spread it around, almost costing her father his official position. Her mother became a laughingstock in the entire capital.

People mocked her mother as shameless and base, saying that a woman of her background shouldn't dare to aspire to be an official's wife, forgetting her own origins.

The third princess, along with her close friends, deliberately led servants and maidservants outside the mansion to speak maliciously to her mother, adding insult to injury.

Father's extravagant wedding was a way to show Mother, and all the gossipmongers in the capital, that the woman they labeled as base and shameless was actually his beloved, the best person in his eyes.

He used all his savings to host a second wedding ceremony for Mother during the height of the slander and insults. The wedding dress was the finest, and even the pattern of the mandarin ducks intertwined on the wedding quilt was drawn by Father's own hands. The pearls adorning the phoenix crown and the brocaded robe were carefully strung together by him.

No one expected Father's actions, and the Third Princess was so angry that she refused to leave her room.

Those who had mocked Mother fell silent, but then their insults became even more vicious, accusing Father of being blinded by lust.

While they despised and looked down on Mother, they envied her more than anyone else.

Now, when the Third Princess mentioned the wedding, she was only hinting to Father that she wanted a new ceremony for herself in the future, one that would surpass Mother's in grandeur.

But she miscalculated. How could Father ever agree to that?

Her eager gaze fell on Father's face, and he put down his chopsticks, revealing a tender smile. "Do you think it's glorious?" he asked.

The smile on the princess' lips faltered.

Father took a handkerchief from the table and gently wiped the corners of the princess' mouth, his tone light and casual. "My princess, you lost your virtue before marriage, and everyone knows it. Outsiders call you a shameless whore. Holding another wedding ceremony would only invite mockery once again, wouldn't it?"

The princess' eyes reddened, and tears began to well up. Father tsked softly and his eyes twinkled with amusement. "Why are you crying? I love you for being shameless. Your skills in bed are far superior to those of those common prostitutes. Men love that sort of thing. You should be proud of it."

The princess sobbed as she buried her face in his chest. "You're lying!" she cried.

Father's lips stiffened briefly, then relaxed, and he patiently said, "Alright, I know you're upset. But wasn't it you who had your maid give me that drug? Why are you crying now? When you have a child, I'll throw a grand celebration for you. Then you'll be the envy of everyone, and no one will dare speak ill of you."

The princess sniffled and sat up, touching her stomach. She felt aggrieved again. "The imperial doctor said it was a boy. You didn't even come to see me that day, and I almost died of pain."

Father smiled calmly and reassuringly. "I was doing it for your own good. The emperor has appointed me to the Ministry of War. You should hurry and give me another son. I'll secure a title for him in the court, and in the future, everything will be his."

The princess brightened up. She ordered the imperial doctor to carefully examine her pulse and prescribe medicine. She wanted to give birth to a son for Father as soon as possible.

When my father was away, she took me to her room and pinched my eyelids with her long nails, pulling out my eyelashes.

She said my eyes were just like my mother's, and that I would surely become a promiscuous woman in the future. She swore that one day, she would gouge out my eyes and feed them to the dogs.

It hurt so much, but I didn't cry. I stood obediently in front of her, enduring her abuse and curses, forcibly suppressing the tears welling up in my eyes.

I didn't want to cry in front of her. One day, I would make her cry in front of me, sobbing bitterly. At least, she would suffer more than me.

One day, I couldn't bear it anymore. She used a candle to flick my eyes, and the pain was unbearable. I remember trying so hard to hold back the tears, but they still flowed down my cheeks.

I hated myself so much. How could I cry in front of her?

Then I smelled the scent of blood, and my heart filled with joy. It was my own blood.

Bleeding was better than crying.

Sometimes, when the abuse became too much to bear, I would repeat to myself: I must remember this pain. Only by remembering the pain, will the hatred for her killing my mother not fade as I grow older.

I was so afraid, afraid of forgetting the feeling of coldness all over my body, the pain that made me unable to breathe, the dry heaves.

I hated my memory. My mother was so good to me, and yet I was gradually forgetting her face.

I couldn't forget. I would suppress the instinct to forget as I grew older. I would always remember my mother's kindness and her face.

And the hatred of that day.

After each session of torment from the princess, I would stay alone in my room, studying and waiting for my wounds to heal.

I didn't tell my father.

He had his own path of revenge, and I had mine. I didn't want to rely on anyone.

My father was always busy, spending less and less time at home. Each time he returned, it was with a group of people to discuss matters in his study.

As the seasons changed from spring to autumn, I watched the people my father brought back change from low-ranking officials to high-ranking dignitaries, and eventually to the notorious torturers of the East Chamber and the powerful regent who held sway over the country.

The color of my father's official robe also changed, reflecting his increasing adeptness at court politics. His eyes became colder, and his figure thinner.

My father, who used to be quiet and reserved, and would always blush nervously when he saw my mother, had unknowingly transformed into a skilled manipulator in the dark world of officialdom.

If my mother were still alive, she would surely be heartbroken and shed tears in secret.

She was the kind of person who would fret over even the smallest scratch on my father. Knowing how gaunt he had become, she would probably have trouble sleeping.

Four years later, the princess was pregnant again, and she was elated. She returned to the palace in a grand carriage, filled with pride, and stayed there until nightfall.

The carriage that had been empty when she left was now filled with gold and jewels upon her return.

She swaggered into the house, her face filled with arrogance, like a peacock displaying its feathers.

Upon seeing me studying, she kicked me in the chest, lifted me up with disgust, and pinched my face between her thumb and forefinger.

Her face was cold as she tightened her grip, as if she wanted to choke me to death. "You're just like your wretched mother," she sneered, "equally annoying."

In the past, she liked to torture me slowly and steadily. But now, with this new child, she held no restraint in her brutality.

Bilan, a maidservant standing nearby, intervened, whispering in the princess's ear, "Princess, your mother-in-law interfered with your relationship with the prince. It was too lenient to let her die so cheaply. Keep this little whore alive and torture her slowly, as punishment for her mother's sins."

The princess loosened her grip on me, and Bilan continued, "You're only just pregnant now, and the prince has just returned from disaster relief. He's about to be promoted again. This little whore isn't worth dying for, but you can't let her ruin your position in the prince's heart. Once you give birth to the heir and the prince has a son, he'll surely tire of this little whore."

The princess smiled happily, threw me aside, and said, "I'll let you live for a few days. We'll settle our score later."

She gently rubbed her belly, a satisfied and bashful smile on her face, as she left in a grandiose manner.

She didn't know that the child in her belly wasn't my father's.

My father despised her to the point of death. How could he have touched her?

On those nights, the scent of incense filled the mansion. Whether it was a beggar or a condemned prisoner from the prison who entered the princess's bedchamber, no one knew for sure.

My father had secretly found the hooligans who raped and killed my mother. They knelt before him, begging for their lives.

They told my father that the princess had told them that the woman they were to rape and kill was a lowly prostitute, so they could do as they pleased.

Upon hearing this, my father sat dazed, not angry. When he came to his senses, he laughed hysterically, repeating the word "lowly" until all his strength was gone. He covered his head and knelt, panting heavily, tears streaming down his face.

The next day, in the room next to my mother's shrine, my father skinned the five men in front of me and made them into lanterns in the shape of beautiful women.

As he skinned the first man, his hand was steady, his eyes fierce and terrifying. The splashing blood splashed onto his face.

He was truly terrifying, like a demon from hell seeking vengeance.

But when he looked at me, his eyes were smiling. They were right. My father had gone mad.

He beckoned me and asked me with a smile if I was afraid.

I shook my head and said no. I was my father's child. How could I be afraid?

My father was mad. How could I be normal?

That night, five strange lanterns hung from the beams in my mother's shrine.

I knew this was just the beginning.

My father was truly mad. There was no going back.

I found some ointment and applied it to the broken and bleeding skin, then picked up the copy of "Strategies of the Warring States" that had fallen on the ground and continued to study.

Father didn't want me to learn music, chess, calligraphy, painting, or embroidery. Instead, he hired the best tutor to teach me the Four Books and Five Classics, as well as the Six Arts of a Gentleman.

I understood Father's intentions and what he was planning to do. I couldn't hold him back.

It was a pity that, despite being my mother's daughter, I hadn't inherited a single bit of her kindness or soft heart. Instead, I was just like Father, ruthless and merciless.

That night, the princess held a banquet in the mansion, and Father came home late.

The princess happily shared the news of her pregnancy with him. "Lord Pei, it's been over four months. The imperial doctor says it's very likely to be a boy."

A mysterious smile appeared on Father's face. He was gaunt, making his facial features even more angular.

Even when he sneered, he could make people lose their senses.

"Is that so?" Father raised his cup to her and smiled. "Congratulations."

As he continued to smile, he burst into laughter and drank several cups in succession. The princess's cheeks turned red, and she was overjoyed.

"Are you so happy?"

Father scoffed. "Of course."

He had drunk a lot and was already unsteady on his feet. He grasped the princess's face with his fingers and asked with a smile, "The princess is still in her twenties, but she looks much older."

The princess's smile froze. She cared deeply about her appearance, and Father's words were like a bolt of lightning to her.

"Lord Pei, am I... am I old?" Her voice trembled, and she was almost on the verge of tears.

Father let go of her face and grabbed Bilan's hand instead. Drunk, he mumbled, "I didn't know the princess had such a charming maid by her side."

After that, Father fell asleep on the table. The princess angrily slapped Bilan across the face.

Bilan knelt down and kowtowed repeatedly, her head bleeding, repeatedly shouting for mercy.

The princess ordered someone to bring a mirror. The flesh on her cheeks almost made her tremble with effort as she stared intently at her reflection, examining it from left to right and grabbing Bilan's face to stare at it as well.

Her voice was cold as she asked the people around her, "Am I prettier, or is this slave prettier?"

A large crowd knelt down and bowed their heads. "Naturally, the princess is prettier!"

She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. Her face looked twisted and venomous. "Since Lord Pei praised you for being so charming, you should drown yourself in a well. Such a charming creature like you should be drowned in water. Don't you agree?"

Bilan had been her maid since childhood. The people kneeling on the ground begged for mercy for her, and also for themselves.

A trusted maid like Bilan could be killed by the princess's word because of a single remark from the prince. How could they, who might be implicated with the prince in the future, ever survive?

The princess was in a fit of anger and her expression became even more twisted when she heard the pleading voices. "I am a princess, and she is a slave! Even if she has served me for years, a slave will always be a slave! How dare she speak of sentimentality with me! The master is always the master, and the servant is always the servant! Drag her away and throw her into the well!"

She smashed the mirror held by the maids like a madwoman. Bilan lay on the ground in despair. Who could have imagined that just a quarter of an hour ago, she had been the princess's trusted confidante, so powerful and influential.

Bilan died. When Father woke up the next day, the servants below reported that Bilan's body had turned white after soaking in the well.

Father sighed with a mysterious expression and said, "It's a pity."

When this word "pity" reached the princess's ears, she was once again stimulated to frenzy. She smashed many things and pointed at the slightly attractive maidservants in the room, calling them fox spirits.

The next day, another human skin lantern appeared in Mother's ancestral hall.

That palace maid named Bilan had once been the princess's pawn in bullying my mother. She led a group of people to throw things and spit at my mother, and even insulted and trampled on her reputation outside the mansion.

Father used someone else's hands to settle the score with Bilan.

See, when you do something wrong, you always have to pay for it.

The servants in the princess's mansion were suffering greatly, especially the maidservants who were slightly attractive.

The princess was constantly suspicious and paranoid. Her temper improved slightly only when the maidservants were replaced with those who looked less attractive and had thicker figures.

Recently, Father hardly ever came home. He spent most of his time with the head eunuch of the East Hall, searching for corrupt officials who took bribes and sold official positions, throwing them into prison.

The scent of blood on Father became increasingly prominent.

The princess hadn't seen Father for half a month and learned that he had just searched a brothel. Unable to sit still with her bulging belly, she smashed the teapot and shouted like a shrew, "Bring Pei Zinc back! Bring him back!"

When Father returned, he hadn't even wiped the bloodstains from his body. The blood beads under his eyes had solidified, giving him an alluring and eerie appearance. The faint scent of blood floating around his nose made him even more captivating than when he was clean.

The princess sobbed and fell into his arms, weeping, "Pei Lang, why didn't you come back to see me? I couldn't sleep at night. I was so scared. Did you keep a woman outside?"

Father deliberately rubbed the undried blood on her face and chuckled, "What are you thinking?"

Nowadays, Father held immense power in the court, being the right-hand man of the emperor. Even the princess couldn't shake his position.

The princess sniffled and sucked her reddened nose, "Where have you been? Why haven't you come home for so long? What have you been busy with?"

Father smiled seductively and answered in a soft voice, "Busy killing people."

The princess staggered for a moment but soon recovered her composure, complaining disgustedly, "Who are the people that you had to kill yourself? Are the brutal officials in the Imprisonment Bureau all useless? They even dirtied your hands."

Father stared at her eyes casually, "Won't the princess ask me who the people I killed are?"

She became interested, "Who are they?"

Father revealed a rare sincere smile on his handsome face, "The wife of Li the censor, the younger sister of Jiang the chancellor, the second wife of Xue the grand tutor, and Minghua, the Duchess."

Every time Father mentioned a name, the smile on the princess's face dimmed a little.

These people were all accomplices who had helped the princess bully my mother in the past.

The princess's voice trembled, "Why, why kill them..."

Father sighed, "Your father is getting older and increasingly indulgent in beauty. These officials' wives came to visit the queen but were unfortunately taken by your father by mistake. Two of them even have imperial heirs in their bellies. As I work for the emperor, I dare not ask why."

Father looked at her leisurely, a trace of excited pleasure creeping into his eyes, "Why are you trembling, princess?"

She took a deep breath and slowly calmed down, exhaling a sigh of relief as if she had escaped a disaster, "It's because of this. I thought it was because of..."

She hurriedly stopped talking and continued with disgust, "Then they deserve to die indeed. Daring to climb onto Father's bed under Mother's nose, they deserve to die a hundred times over. It's just a shame that it dirtied your hands."

Father's eyes were filled with sarcasm, "Indeed, it's dirty."

As the year-end drew near, the princess was approaching her delivery date.

A few days before her childbirth, she repeatedly begged her father to put aside his official duties and return home to be with her. She wept pitifully in his arms until he promised her, at which point she finally smiled.

However, on the day of her childbirth, as she lay in agony, unable to stand and almost fainting, her father did not return. Not only did he not return, but there was no one else in the entire room to assist her.

She curled up on the floor of her boudoir, moaning in pain: "Someone, help me! Someone!"

The entire mansion seemed deserted, with no one responding. Except for me.

I closed my eyes and walked through the corridor, listening carefully to her cries, feeling an unusual joy.

I pushed open the door and entered, my face filled with a worried expression: "Princess, what's wrong?"

Upon seeing me, she crawled towards me like she had found a lifeline, grasping onto my feet. With sweat pouring down her face, she struggled to say, "Go, quickly, go and call for help!"

I sobbed: "There's no one left in the mansion. The maidservants are all new and they've all run away. I couldn't stop them. I heard them talking to a man, and it seems he has some connection with Bi Lan, but I couldn't make out what they were saying clearly. The guards have also been taken away..."

Bi Lan didn't have any men. It was her father who had reassigned the servants in the mansion.

Childbirth is a treacherous journey for a woman, where any carelessness can lead to the loss of both mother and child.

When my mother gave birth to me, my father anxiously waited outside the door, even breaking it down in his haste. He disregarded all taboos, ran inside, and stood by my mother's bedside, enduring the scolding of the midwife and doctor without uttering a word, secretly wiping away his tears.

How could he not know the difficulties of childbirth?

He just wanted the princess to suffer, to cry, to scream.

The princess weakly pushed me away, urging me to find her father.

I cried, telling her that her father had been assassinated outside and his fate was unknown.

Her vision darkened, and she almost fainted.

That night, she labored for seven or eight hours, until she was on the verge of death.

I gently wiped the sweat from her forehead. She couldn't die.

The doctor, who had been waiting in another room, entered with the midwife when the princess was about to lose consciousness, ushering in a new round of screams.

I sat outside the door, watching as the sky gradually lightened, listening to the bright cries of the newborn baby behind me. I couldn't help but smile silently.

It was finally my turn.

After waiting and enduring for so long, it was finally my turn.

I suppressed the spasmodic pleasure in my throat and resumed my usual unthreatening, dull, and timid appearance.

Father returned after fifteen days. Upon seeing his wounds and wan complexion, the princess' resentment turned to pity. "Pei Lang, I narrowly escaped being killed by that vile servant girl, Bilan. How are your wounds?" Father said it was nothing, hastily attending to the princess before retreating to his chamber for rest.

His injuries were genuine. He had just quelled an internal rebellion, suppressing the regent's treason with the imperial guards. Although victorious, he sustained wounds.

Yet, I sensed a rare vitality in him, a stark contrast to his usual lifeless demeanor, like a walking corpse. Later, I understood the source of this vitality. Having quelled the rebellion, he now held most of the military power within the court. Many of the ministers were his loyal followers, cultivated over the past five years.

Father rejoiced in his years of meticulous planning, finally bearing fruit. After resting for several days, his health much improved, he visited the princess.

He deliberately sat beside her bed, gently feeding her soup and telling her jokes to lighten the mood. When the atmosphere was just right, Father covered his nose, scowling in disgust. "What's that foul odor?"

The princess' face paled, then flushed. She looked at him dryly, unconsciously hugging her blanket. "Your wounds haven't healed yet. You should rest early."

Father pretended not to hear her reluctance and discomfort, nodding and leaving. As soon as he exited, the princess' sobs echoed through the chamber. Father turned coldly to the study, a hint of a smirk on his lips.

Father knew exactly how to hurt a woman, as well as how to love one. My mother once told me that he was particularly emotional. When she was confined to her bed during confinement, he changed her menstrual pads and wept quietly as he washed them.

In the evenings, as he bathed her and turned her over, he wept, telling her they would never have another child, that he never knew childbirth could be so tormenting. My mother said he had a childlike nature.

But Father was no child. During my mother's confinement, he scarcely slept, caring for both me and her, cooking soups and meals to nourish her while washing my diapers. My mother gained weight during her confinement, while Father looked as if he had been through hell, yet he smiled foolishly.

He had taken care of my mother so meticulously, knowing everything about confinement. He deliberately said those things to torment the princess. Knowing her noble birth, he trampled on her pride, driving her to madness, discomfort, and shame.

When my mother died, she carried a two-month-old fetus, its gender unknown. The princess had threatened my mother that the child would not survive three months.

Yes, three months.

Two months later, the princess emerged from her confinement, restored to her lively and irritating self. She sent invitations to all the prominent officials in the capital, hosting a grand banquet to celebrate the appointment of her son as the heir.

After Father quelled the rebellion, the emperor granted him the title of prince. Now with military power firmly in his grasp, Father truly held sway over the entire realm. The princess basked in the compliments and congratulations of the assembled officials and their wives. She wanted to reclaim all the praise and attention she had missed out on during her wedding day.

"The princess has excellent taste. Scholar Pei is destined for greatness," one of them said.

"It's no wonder the princess insisted on marrying him. She must have known all along that the prince would become a powerful minister," another chimed in.

The princess straightened her back, lifted her head, and smiled proudly. "After the imperial examination, the Astronomer-Royal and the National Master continuously predicted that Pei Cai would become a powerful minister above all others, even renowned throughout history and worshipped by future generations. Such a phoenix among men is naturally worthy of a princess like me. That vile woman should have known her place! Besides, who among all the men in Shangjing can compare to the beauty of my husband? In a hundred years, my name will forever be linked with his, and future generations will praise us together as a perfect match made in heaven."

Echoing voices of agreement surrounded her.

Hidden behind a pillar, I sat on the ground, chilled to the bone. So, this grand spectacle of forcing my mother to her death and refusing to allow my father to resign from his position was all because of a prophecy?

Such a fleeting and uncertain prophecy had cost my mother her life and driven my father to madness. It was absurd.

I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. And I wondered how my father would react if he heard the princess' words. Would he weep or laugh?

Perhaps he would only go even further into madness.

Halfway through the banquet, the cradle beside the princess suddenly broke, causing the child to tumble to the ground and roll down the stairs. Screams echoed around as the child continued rolling until it fell into the lake.

The princess, who had been so arrogant and triumphant a moment ago, was now in complete despair. Her screams echoed through the air as I emerged from behind the pillar, watching every change in her expression.

I saw her expression overlap with mine when my mother died. Her pale and anguished face was the same as mine had been, her screams were identical, and even her frantic and clumsy stumbling to the ground was identical to mine.

Who says there is no empathy in the world? Look, doesn't she now share my feelings?

My pain of losing my mother, her pain of losing her child.

She killed my mother on the day of my birth, and now I have taken her son's life on her happiest day.

It's been almost three months, just enough to avenge the unborn child in my mother's womb.

She must feel the same pain as me to repay her debt.

I suddenly understood my father. What's the point of killing someone outright?

Those who hold high positions like the princess, who treat human lives as worthless, should be allowed to live and suffer the consequences of their actions. Only by experiencing the pain they inflict on others through their laughter and jests will they truly understand what it means to regret something too late.

The princess's mental state was deteriorating rapidly. Since the death of her child, she had been behaving abnormally. She shut herself in her room, wandering around barefoot with a pillow clasped to her chest. Only when she saw my father would she calm down.

My father fed her, but she would suddenly break down in tears while eating and apologize to him. She confessed that she had borrowed the cradle in order to share in the good fortune of the crown princess's eldest son, unaware that it had been hollowed out by insects.

My father comforted her, saying that they would have another child eventually. She sobbed heartbrokenly and collapsed into his arms, weeping, "Pei Lang, when I first saw you, it was when you were the top scholar in the imperial examination. You rode your horse through the streets, full of pride and happiness. My cousin was the second-ranked scholar, and he invited you to a banquet at a tavern. But you said you had to go home to cook soup for your wife. She would be afraid if she woke up from her nap and didn't see you."

"My cousin told me this as a joke, but I remembered it. That night, I dreamed that I was your wife. You cooked soup for me, soothed me to sleep, painted my eyebrows by the west window, and shared tea and poetry with me. I wanted to die in that dream and never wake up."

"My mother was a daughter of a high-ranking family. She was taught to be dignified and magnanimous from childhood. After entering the palace, she became the queen. She only had me as a daughter, and she didn't know how to please the emperor like his other concubines. As the queen mother, everyone told her to be tolerant and magnanimous, not to be jealous. So, she watched helplessly as her husband slept with other women night after night, and she would only hug me and cry in front of my bed. Her crying annoyed me so much that I swore to myself that I would find a wonderful husband who would treat me well, pamper me, and be mine alone forever. I didn't want to be like my mother, a loser who retreated and gave in."

"The emperor had many children, and new ones were born every year. By the time I was eight, he couldn't even remember my name."

"Living in the palace, my mother was like a statue of a Buddha, unaware of intrigue and malice. She only knew how to wait. She didn't realize that she had to fight for what she wanted. She had to fight for the emperor's favor, because without it, there was no dignity for a princess. The siblings and cousins in the palace were all enemies cloaked in the guise of blood relatives. We fought each other just to defend our own interests, just to survive and maintain the dignity of being a princess or a master."

"I know you resent me, Pei Lang, but I truly admire and love you."

"My mother's own love life was a mess. What could she teach me? Over the years, the intrigues in the palace only taught me to grab and take what I wanted. You were what I desired, and as a princess, you should have been mine, shouldn't you? I drugged you only to make you submit to me."

"That woman, Yaoniang, she doesn't deserve you. The Astronomer Royal also said that we were the most compatible. How could such a lowly person like her be worthy of a scholar like you, who is so well-versed in classics?"

"She's too unaware of her own status. People who don't understand their place in the palace or in the capital won't last long. The masters are the masters, and everyone else beneath them is nothing. Their lives are not even as precious as our cats and dogs. Pei Lang, it's because you won't obey me, you're too stubborn. You shouldn't have rejected me. I'm a princess, I'm your master..."

"Pei Lang, don't hate me. Love me, will you? Let's have another child. I'll definitely give you a prince. You won't take any concubines. I'm still young, I'm the first beauty of Chang'an. None of them are as beautiful as me..."

She rambled incoherently, muttering to herself as she held my father's face.

My father's hand was hidden in his sleeve, and his fingers trembled uncontrollably. He was suppressing the urge to choke her to death.

With great effort, my father managed to suppress the surging hatred in his heart. His eyes were gentle, and a soft smile played on his lips. "Alright, let's have another child. I won't take any concubines. How could I?"

The smile on his lips deepened as he lifted the princess's face and said slowly, "Yes, the princess is the first beauty of Chang'an. The princess has always loved this face the most. No one is more beautiful than you..."

With my father's meticulous care, the princess's illness improved significantly. Half a year later, she became pregnant again.

After this pregnancy, the princess became much more reserved. She no longer ventured out and instead spent her time quietly in her room, often lost in thought as she stroked her belly.

The imperial doctor whispered to my father that the princess's mental state was now unstable and she could not be further provoked. If she were to be stimulated again, there would be no hope of recovery, and she might descend into complete madness.

After seeing off the imperial doctor, my father pushed open the window of his study and let out a sarcastic laugh.

When the child in her belly reached six months, the princess's stomach was suddenly covered with red streaks overnight. She was terrified.

But this time, my father did not deliberately taunt her as he had before. Instead, he soothed her with a gentle voice and gave her a box of ointment.

"Apply this, and it will fade away. Don't cry," he said.

My father carefully comforted her, all to keep her spirits up and prepare her for the most devastating blow.

My father intended to destroy everything the princess held dear, just as she had done to him in the past.

The princess applied the ointment, and the streaks on her stomach gradually disappeared. She was happy for a while, but then the face she had always prided herself on, her beautiful lotus-like complexion, began to rot little by little.

It wasn't a large area at first, but it grew day by day, slowly but surely.

The princess went mad.

Her face was all she had cared about the most.

Meanwhile, my father marshaled his troops and staged a palace coup. The princess confined herself in her room and refused to see anyone, so she was unaware of what was happening outside.

She didn't know that her parents and brothers had been imprisoned in the imperial prison, that my father's years of scheming were about to come to fruition, or that she was about to die.

When my father returned to the mansion to see the princess, her face was already completely rotted. Her once ethereal beauty had been replaced by uneven patches of decaying flesh, with her eyeballs hanging loose, creating a gruesome and terrifying sight.

However, my father showed no fear or disgust. Instead, he admired her appearance with a smile. After laughing for a while, he sat down in a nearby armchair to catch his breath.

As soon as the princess saw the dragon robe on my father, she immediately understood what had happened. Crawling on the ground, she approached my father's feet and tried to speak, but only managed to emit incoherent sobs.

My father lifted her chin with his foot and sneered, "That medicine not only rotted your face but will also slowly rot your tongue and liver. It's agonizing, isn't it? But you won't die. You'll have to wait slowly for death. You can't die too soon. Otherwise, I won't be happy."

The princess wept, her appearance horrifying. But my father looked at her as if she were a beautiful painting. "Remember when you held a knife and threatened to slash Yao Niang's face? I told you that one day, I would ruin yours. You didn't believe me then and laughed, saying I wouldn't dare. After all, you thought your face was the most beautiful in Chang'an."

My father's smile faded as he lowered his leg and looked the princess in the eye. "I only feel disgust. Whether it was then or now, your face makes me sick. How can you compare to my Yao Niang? She's pure and kind-hearted, infinitely more beautiful than you. You're not even worth comparing to her."

My father stood up, and guards entered to hoist the desperate princess to her feet. He was in a good mood as he said, "Don't worry, you won't die so soon. Your parents will die before you. I'll skin them right in front of you. My skills are excellent now, very smooth. By the time it's your turn, you'll know what to expect."

The princess couldn't stop trembling. She had always praised her mother for her generosity and tolerance, but in reality, her mother had deceived my mother into the palace to drown her for the princess's own happiness.

The emperor had also been complacent, allowing my mother to narrowly escape death only to later poison her. If my father hadn't snatched the cup and drunk it instead (a move the princess had tried to stop), both my father and mother would have died long ago.

Father looked at the beautiful weather outside, overjoyed. He circled around the princess, clapping his hands and his eyes wild. "You must die slowly. You have to wait until I crown Yao Niang as the queen and she enters the ancestral temple. Then you can die. I want you, these hypocrites and beasts, to watch my Yao Niang through the ages. Don't you all look down on her? I want you all to bow to her, to kneel at the feet of my Yao Niang, and look up to her for the rest of your lives!"

Father looked at her bloated belly with a half-smile. "None of the children you're carrying are mine. Neither was the person who drank the poison you gave that day. And since then, in this mansion, I haven't touched you once. Don't you pride yourself on your nobility? How did the taste of those beggars and condemned prisoners fare?"

The princess, who was on the verge of death, suddenly erupted with a tremendous force. But before her hand could touch Father, she was restrained. Apart from emitting a hoarse moan, she couldn't make any other sound.

She was imprisoned in the imperial prison. After the Ministry of Rites finished handling Mother's affairs, Father came to the prison to collect the final debt.

The princess fainted when she saw her parents' skinned bodies and was splashed with water to wake her up.

She couldn't move now, no different from a living corpse, her insides completely rotten.

Guards on both sides held her up as she tried to flee in horror but couldn't move. The blade in Father's hand pierced her skin. "Others are skinned after they die, but you're different. You have to be alive. That way, the beauty lantern made from you will look better. The lanterns made from your parents are already hanging in Yao Niang's ancestral temple. There are twenty-three lanterns in the temple now, just one short of you."

"I left you for last so that my Yao Niang can rest in peace. You have to suffer. If you die too comfortably, Yao Niang won't be at ease."

The subtle sound of flesh tearing filled the air, and the scent of blood grew increasingly pungent until only a pile of dirty flesh remained on the ground.

Father shook the blood off his fingers, took a few steps back, and laughed heartily. But as he laughed, he cried.

He leaned against the railing and retched, but nothing came out. Finally, he coughed up a mouthful of blood.

It turns out that Father was also disgusted by the act of skinning. It turns out that in the end, revenge didn't bring him happiness.

Yes, he had taken revenge, but the person he cared about was gone long ago. How could he be happy?

The brightest lantern hung in front of Mother's tablet.

Father seemed to have transformed overnight. He devoted all his energy to teaching me the ways of being a ruler.

Over the course of four years, he purged the remaining old imperial partisans and corrupt officials from the court, crowned me as the Empress, and abdicated the throne to me.

Just like that day, he knelt in front of me and placed his hands on my shoulders. "You must be a good Empress. You must ensure that your mother's tablet remains in the ancestral temple forever, receiving the worship and offerings of these people. Do you understand?"

"Yes," I replied.

He tried to touch my head like he used to when I was young, but his hand eventually fell. "Father is sorry for you. I don't expect you to forgive me. I wasn't a good father. I could only take care of your mother in this lifetime, not you. In the next life, I will repay you by being your servant."

I wanted to tell him, "Father, I love you and Mother. I have never blamed you."

But I didn't say it.

For many years later, I kept wondering why I hadn't spoken those words that day.

Why?

My father returned to his former mansion and took up residence in my mother's shrine.

He avoided meeting me often, and when I went to visit him, he rarely saw me.

It was only on a certain day, when he collapsed and bled profusely in the mansion, that I learned he had been taking Five-Stone Powder daily.

I rode my horse to see him, and found him lying on the floor of the shrine, his robes open, his body flushed with heat.

Holding my mother's memorial tablet in his arms, he lay there, tears streaming down his face as he kissed the name on the tablet with care and tenderness.

The imperial physician said he had little time left to live.

He beckoned me, still seemingly unconscious, and asked, "Do you know about Yao Niang?"

A bitter taste rose in my heart.

He continued, muttering to himself, crazed, weeping and laughing, "She saved me. I was copying books for the son of the Wang official, and I made a mistake, breaking a taboo. The son of the Wang official beat me with his servants, but Yao Niang stopped them and used her handkerchief to bandage my wound. I asked who she was, and she said she was a singer in the Wang official's mansion, hoping that a pure-hearted scholar like me wouldn't despise her handkerchief."

He whispered, his eyes vacant, "What kind of person is Yao Niang? I don't know. I only know that she saved me, and I want to return her handkerchief. When I saw her again, she was covered in wounds, ready to hang herself. She had fallen into prostitution, sold into a brothel by her parents. She was a poorer soul than me. She saved me once, and I wanted to save her too."

"She gave me all her savings and asked me to redeem her. Once freed, she would be mine, and the contract stated that I could buy and sell her, but how could I ever do that to her?"

"She had nowhere else to go, so she had to be with me. We treated each other with mutual respect."

"She forbade me to copy books anymore. She said she would give me all her remaining savings and asked if I could become a top scholar. She said she would be my concubine or servant, whatever I wanted."

"She asked timidly, but all I could think was, what concubine, what servant? Yao Niang supported me in my studies, cooked for me, and even gave me a daughter. Naturally, I wanted her to be my wife, my rightful wife, my only wife. She was my loyal wife in my most destitute times, and I had to treat her well and never betray her. How could she be a concubine? How could I ever have a concubine?"

These long-buried memories, my father had never shared with me before.

All I remember is when I was five years old, a princess took a liking to my father and asked him, "Have you ever despised Yao Niang for being a prostitute?"

My father's anger boiled over, and he couldn't bear the princess's persistence any longer. He swore, "Despise her? Why would I despise the woman who married me in my most desperate times? Virtue is worthless, that word shouldn't even exist! It's a farce! Yao Niang had no choice, it was the fault of this world, not hers. What fault did she have? Her only fault was being born a woman and sold into a brothel by her parents for ten copper coins! Yao Niang's purity lies in her own will, not in the biases of the world. I love Yao Niang, no matter what. I cherish her, I won't despise her, I'll only despise you!"

I returned to the present, watching as my father suddenly rose to his feet from the ground.

He pushed me away and staggered forward, grabbing the scissors on the table and slashing his face with them. Blood splattered everywhere, but he seemed unaware of the pain, muttering to himself, "It's this face's fault, all this face's fault..."

Horrified, my hands and feet turned ice cold. I quickly grabbed him, but he hugged my mother's memorial tablet and wept in the corner, blood and tears mingling together. He sobbed, trembling and gasping for breath, "Nian Yao, I've ruined my face. What if Yao Niang doesn't like it when we meet again? What if she doesn't like it..."

A eunuch supported me and asked what to do. I suppressed the sourness in my eyes. What to do? How could I know? The Third Princess was dead, and my father's last breath had escaped him. Hatred had been his crutch through the years, but now it was gone, and he couldn't go on.

He seemed calm, but he had been insane for years. He had endured so much for so long, and he couldn't take it anymore. How many times had his heart crumbled?

I couldn't fathom the collapse within him.

"Go find a royal physician, quickly!" I couldn't hold back my tears. I walked up to my father, took his hand, and soothed him, "Father, you're hurt. Let me take you to get bandaged, okay?"

He tilted his head and looked at me for a long time, then suddenly smiled, "It's Nian Yao."

He grasped my hand, his dark eyes sparkling with an innocence that didn't match his age. He smiled happily, "Nian Yao, your mother is going to come back from buying vegetables soon. Let's go pick some lotus flowers for her. She loves lotus flowers so much. Come on, Nian Yao, let's go pick some."

He pulled me outside, and I burst into tears.

Oh, God, I beg you, I really beg you. If there really is a next life, please let Pei Yu and Shen Yao live a peaceful life together forever. Take my life in exchange, take this lifetime of mine. Let me die early, let me die a miserable death, let my ending be as bad as it can be. Just please let them be together in the next life. Even if it means I have to die now, I would gladly accept it.

Father died one afternoon, right outside the shrine of my mother. It seemed as if he didn't dare to go in.

Father was afraid to see Mother with his disfigured face and worried that the blood on his hands might taint her memory.

He was so foolish. Mother would never blame him.

I buried them together in the same grave.

On the way back, the newly appointed consort asked me, "Emperor, what are the characters of your name?"

I paused for a moment and said, word by word, "Pei Nian Yao. The 'Yao' in my name comes from the phrase 'a graceful and demure lady is the ideal match for a gentleman.'"

(The End)