The coldness in Di Ronghua’s eyes grew even deeper.
Back then, because of her, twenty-three innocent commoners had died in that rain of arrows.
The lives of these assassins were worthless, but beyond that, she had nothing else to offer as a tribute to those innocent souls.
She could only hope that from now on, the departed might rest in peace.
…
Mu Qingshuang was dead.
In her final moments, Di Ronghua had used the same voodoo poison from years ago on her. Letting her die by strangulation would’ve been too lenient.
But the massacre at the palace gates quickly reached the ears of the court officials.
Several ministers immediately requested an audience at the palace.
Xiao Hanjin watched the woman in the room quietly washing her hands. Only after she finished and wiped them clean did he speak in a low voice, “Can you tell me now?”
Di Ronghua glanced at him. “What’s the rush? It’s not a big deal.”
Xiao Hanjin’s gaze darkened abruptly.
The woman blinked. “Why such a big reaction? Is it because you regret nearly killing Mu Qingshuang?” She smiled. “Too late for that, though. Miss Mu is probably already on her way to reincarnation.”
“Di Ronghua,” he said, his face expressionless as he looked at her. “You can blame me or resent me, but you know full well it’s not because of her.”
Di Ronghua met his serious, stern gaze, the curve of her lips fading slightly.
“Jumping off the cliff was a ruse. Xiao Jiu caught me.”
She shifted her gaze away, speaking faintly, “The day you returned to the palace, Mu Qingshuang found me. Those people outside were her accomplices. In the chaos of arrows, they killed twenty-three commoners. Not a single person who died today was innocent.”
Only then did she meet his dark, fathomless eyes again. “As for me, I was poisoned a bit and fell into a coma for a while. That’s all.”
She spoke lightly, her expression showing no trace of emotion.
But every word landed like a thunderclap, shaking Xiao Hanjin to his core.
His pupils contracted sharply, darkening several shades. His distinct, bony hand had unconsciously gripped her wrist, squeezing tightly. “What poison was it… How long were you unconscious? Four years?”
Di Ronghua could even feel his hand trembling with stiffness. “It’s not important. It’s all in the past.”
“You said you’d tell me everything.”
“…”
She closed her eyes and let out a soft laugh. “I don’t know what poison it was. The one I just used on Mu Qingshuang was the same—probably something she concocted herself. If you really want to know, test it yourself.”
Xiao Hanjin flinched slightly.
Though he hadn’t paid attention to the poison at the time, he’d clearly seen how much agony Mu Qingshuang had endured before dying.
She had… gone through that too?
“Ronghua.” The man’s Adam’s apple bobbed repeatedly.
He had so many questions—how she’d given birth to Jiangjiang while poisoned, how she’d detoxified herself, how she’d escaped back then—but all the words caught in his throat.
Even without asking, he knew how hard these years must have been for her.
He closed his eyes briefly. “I’ll…”
“No need.”
Before he could finish, Di Ronghua cut him off.
His pupils shrank slightly.
She was so clever, so perceptive—she knew exactly what he was about to say.
And she was so decisive, so unyielding, shattering his foolish hopes before he could even voice them.
The grip on her wrist tightened unconsciously. Di Ronghua glanced at it and gave him a faint smile. “Though this all started because of you, you weren’t the one who harmed me. I’ve already used you to take my revenge, so we’re even. You don’t need to carry any burden over it.”
