Chapter 539 - 521 Yangxin Palace
The lifeless body of Feng Shu was placed in the inner hall of Yangxin Palace, still dressed in that plain-colored long gown. No matter how many silk brocades and jewelry Yuwen Jing sent to Yingchun Palace over the years, Feng Shu always remained in mourning white, bare-faced and unadorned. Even the jewelry she chose consisted of faintly-colored jade, stark and simple—unlike that of a favored concubine.
Yuwen Jing, shadowed by grief and madness, clutched Feng Shu’s hand as he sobbed and laughed uncontrollably, "Shu’er, are you joking with me? You must be! Wake up now! I’ve already sent people to the Feng Family. If you don’t wake up, I’ll kill them! Do you hear me? I’ll kill them all! Shu’er, are you cold? Why are your hands so icy? Are you freezing? Someone, bring the stove in here, hurry! Shu’er is cold, she’s freezing!"
Chen Mo gazed at the man dressed in dragon robes yet looking utterly disheveled, his expression heavy with sorrow. How had a ruler of the nation, destined to possess everything, fallen to such a forlorn state? He could not understand Yuwen Jing’s obsession with Feng Shu—what was the source of it? He was the master of the world; the affections of women were merely ornaments to his grandeur. Why torment himself like this over a single woman?
The palace attendants serving in the hall pressed their foreheads to the floor, none daring to look up and witness the emperor in such a humiliated and deranged condition. The room was oppressively hot, sweat soaking the bodies of those present. Around Feng Shu, five or six stoves burned fiercely, the charcoal glowing bright. Yet her body remained cold, devoid of any warmth. No matter how desperately Yuwen Jing tried, he could not bring her back from death.
"Shu’er, wake up! I was wrong! Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you. Why are you still not satisfied? Why won’t you stay with me, not even in death? Was it so terrible to become Chen Fei? Xie Zhang is dead—he’s dead! Why can’t you let him go? Shu’er, wake up, please! Just wake up, and I will grant you whatever you wish!"
Yuwen Jing rambled incoherently. When Feng Shu had leapt from the city walls, he had desperately tried to grab hold of her hand. If Chen Mo hadn’t restrained him, he might have instinctively followed her down.
He had run frantically, descending the city walls as he cried out for someone to fetch an imperial physician. A faint shred of hope persisted within him, yearning for Feng Shu to survive. But the walls were so high—she had leapt from such a perilous height. Feng Shu lay in a pool of blood, the corners of her lips stained with crimson. In her final moments, no one knew what she was thinking about. But she had smiled—smiled as she approached death. It was a smile of relief, of release, as though freed from a lifelong burden. Or perhaps, her beloved had descended from heaven to embrace her at last.
Yuwen Jing would never know. He refused to accept that Feng Shu was dead. Even though Chen Mo had checked for breath and confirmed she had died on the spot, without even leaving Yuwen Jing a final word—she had long grown weary of their endless turmoil.
But Yuwen Jing refused to listen. Doctor Zhang quickly arrived along with Zhang Lingzheng. Upon witnessing the scene, Zhang Lingzheng’s eyes reddened with grief and disbelief. Feng Shu’s body was so battered that nearly all her bones had shattered; even moving her seemed unthinkable. Yet Yuwen Jing insisted on bringing her back to Yangxin Palace. Outside the hall, Judge Zhang and Zhang Lingzheng knelt, waiting for orders. Yangxin Palace was engulfed in silence, except for Yuwen Jing’s cries of despair.
Lin Yushu stepped into Yangxin Palace and heard Yuwen Jing’s wails. Her mind was flooded with both anger and sorrow. If this was the inevitable result, why had things been pushed so far? Why force her cousin to her death, as if that were the only resolution? Now that her cousin was dead, Yuwen Jing himself seemed on the verge of losing his mind.
Lin Helin had sent someone with a message, urging her to remain in the palace with the Crown Prince, avoiding involvement and staying out of harm’s way. But Lin Yushu found it impossible to sit still within the hall. The Jinyi Guards were searching the imperial palace, seeking Chen Lin, Dongxue, and Xia Zhu. Lin Yushu had dispatched people to hide them within Weiyang Palace but had also heard of Feng Shu’s death.
Her cousin had already grown unable to endure this filthy and sinful mortal world. Countless times, Lin Yushu had seen the longing in her cousin’s eyes through Abao, yearning for Ruyi. It made Lin Yushu realize that her cousin was only surviving for Ruyi—only hoping for one last reunion. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have wanted to live any longer. Though alive, she had been like a soulless husk. Now she was gone, and Lin Yushu could not help but feel relieved for Feng Shu.
At last, her cousin had escaped from Yuwen Jing, freeing herself. At last, she was about to reunite with her beloved cousin—that must have been her deepest wish.
"Empress, His Majesty has ordered that no one is to enter inside. Please return to your palace," a palace servant blocked Lin Yushu’s path, unwilling to let her witness Yuwen Jing in such a pitiable state.
Lin Yushu’s face went cold as she spoke in a deep voice, "The Emperor has gone mad, committing reckless killings. And you dare block me here without trying to stop him? Get out of my way!"
She shoved aside the palace servant and entered Yangxin Palace.