The moment Wang Youde left, a figure slipped into Ningxiang Pavilion like a phantom, utterly silent and leaving no trace.
The visitor wore Night Clothes and a mask, revealing only a pair of eyes as deep as a Cold Pool.
His form was like smoke as he moved through the pavilion. In his wake, the Nannies, Palace Maids, and guards collapsed silently to the floor. They were not dead, but mesmerized by pure Spiritual Power, trapped in an Illusion. It was Xia Wuyang.
He walked straight to Fan Yingying and looked at her with indifference.
Fan Yingying looked up in terror. Just as she was about to cry out, her gaze met his.
In an instant, she felt a BUZZ in her head. Her consciousness began to blur, the scene before her rippling like water... then, she knew nothing at all.
Soul Enchantment Technique, activated.
In just three breaths, Fan Yingying’s eyes turned vacant.
Xia Wuyang implanted a false memory in her Sea of Consciousness. She now "remembered" falling suddenly and acutely ill, unable to acclimate to her new surroundings. The Imperial Physician had diagnosed her with a virulent disease, requiring her to be quarantined for quiet recuperation.
Afterward, Wang Youde had ordered her sent out of the palace and settled in a manor in the Outskirts of Beijing to recover properly.
He also inflicted some injuries upon her, ones that would take at least a year or more to heal. This could be considered her punishment.
Having done this, Xia Wuyang gently took her by the waist. With a flicker of movement, he swept out of Ningxiang Pavilion like a great roc taking flight, disappearing into the night after a few powerful leaps.
He brought Fan Yingying to an abandoned side hall near the Cold Palace. This place was one of Empress Murong Wan’s secret strongholds, with a highly concealed hidden chamber beneath it.
Xia Wuyang whispered to her, "Wait for me here. Stay put, and I’ll send you out of the palace soon."
Fan Yingying nodded woodenly, her gaze still vacant.
Xia Wuyang turned and returned to Ningxiang Pavilion.
Everyone inside the pavilion was still unconscious. Xia Wuyang walked over to the women who resembled Consort Ji, scrutinizing them one by one.
There were thirteen in total—quite a large number—and all of them bore some resemblance to Consort Ji.
Each one was young and beautiful, carrying a shadow of Consort Ji in their features, more or less.
Some were alluring, some innocent, some coyly naive... Emperor Xia had clearly expended great effort and resources to find his "replacements."
Xia Wuyang sighed softly. "What a pity. You should never have entered the palace, and you certainly shouldn’t have become Xia Shengming’s playthings. For me, however, this is quite a fortunate turn of events."
He raised his hand, holding his fingers together like a sword.
A faint black energy swirled at his fingertips. It was the True Qi of the Nether Enchanting Heart Needle—sinister, cold, and venomous, like a festering sore clinging to bone. Once inside a body, it would lie dormant deep within the meridians, showing no outward signs. But if it were stimulated—by strenuous exercise, emotional agitation, or contact with Supreme Yang Qi—it would erupt and corrode the Yang Meridian.
What Xia Wuyang intended to do was plant a Netherworld Seed inside each of these thirteen women, giving Emperor Xia a little surprise.
He didn’t dare plant too much Netherworld Power in any single woman. Emperor Xia was, after all, a master of Super Grade Perfection, and he also carried various Spirit Talismans.
His senses were sharp; if too much was infused at once, he would likely detect it.
So, he had to take a slow and steady approach, letting things unfold gradually. He was in no rush. He would plant just a faint trace in each woman, letting it hide in the deepest parts of their meridians, where it would never normally be revealed.
But the moment Emperor Xia took them to his bed, during the union of yin and yang, his Supreme Yang Qi would stimulate the Netherworld Seed, causing it to silently seep into his body. Not even a True Monarch could detect it, let alone a Super Grade Celestial Human.
One time might be harmless. So might two, or three, or even ten... but many small amounts add up. Eventually, a day would come when the Netherworld Power would corrode his Yang Meridian, rendering him impotent and forever unable to break through to the True Monarch Realm.
’A Eunuch Emperor,’ he thought. ’How exciting.’
"This revenge isn’t truly vicious, merely a small chastisement," Xia Wuyang muttered coldly to himself as he performed the technique. "Compared to how you harmed my Empress Mother, destroyed the entire Luo Family, and harmed me... this is merciful. There’s much more waiting for you."
He moved with extreme speed. With a light tap of his fingertip on each woman’s vital points—the Dantian, the Perineum, the Life Gate—a hair-thin strand of Netherworld True Qi silently slipped into their bodies and lay dormant, leaving not a single trace.
The entire process took no more than the time to drink a cup of tea; it was not slow at all.
He had set his hidden trap within all thirteen women.
After finishing, Xia Wuyang checked everything again carefully. Confirming he had left no traces, he nodded in satisfaction, a smile gracing the corners of his lips.
He walked to the window and looked toward Qianqing Palace, a cold glint in his eyes. "Xia Shengming, you wanted to find a second Consort Ji, didn’t you? Well, I’ve sent you thirteen. Every one of them is your Life-Extending Talisman. Enjoy them. There’s more where that came from."
With a flicker of his form, he vanished into the night.
Meanwhile, in Ningxiang Pavilion, the Nannies, Palace Maids, and guards who had been trapped in the Illusion began to wake up one after another about an hour later.
They looked around in a daze, only recalling that everything had been normal moments before; nothing strange had happened at all.
’As for Fan Yingying? Oh, that girl from Jiangnan... they heard she’d come down with a sudden illness and been sent out of the palace to recuperate.’
’What a shame. To look so much like Lady Ji yet lack the good fortune to serve Your Majesty. She missed such a great opportunity.’
No one remembered that a man in black had ever been there.
And no one knew what seeds of calamity had been sown inside the thirteen Beauties who were about to have an audience with the Emperor.
The night grew deeper. In Chuxiu Palace, the lamps were extinguished one by one. The women, filled with either dreams or dread for the future, fell into a deep sleep, oblivious to what had transpired.
Xia Wuyang also paid a visit to Wang Youde’s side of things, dealing with everyone who knew about the matter.
As for Wang Youde himself, the hidden trap of Netherworld Power was already planted within him. Before long, he would die in an "accident."
Meanwhile, in Qianqing Palace, Emperor Xia was drinking alone before a portrait of Consort Ji. His eyes were filled with pity and regret, but not a trace of fond remembrance.
He had no idea that the "opportunity" he so desperately craved was slowly turning into a "checkmate" that would bring him nothing but humiliation and despair.
The Deep Palace is like a game of chess, and once a piece is placed, there’s no taking it back.
And the one playing with the black pieces had already set the board for checkmate.
Time passed, and the weather grew hotter.
The heat in White Jade City had become staggering. Walking through the Palace Lanes around Noon, you could see distorted waves of heat rising from the glazed tiles of the distant halls, as if the entire Imperial Palace was about to ignite.
The cicadas shrieked themselves hoarse, as if trying to burn through all of summer’s vitality in this single moment, leaving nothing in their wake.
The lotuses in Taiye Pool, however, were in perfect bloom. A mix of pink and white, they stood tall and graceful, exuding a faint, cool fragrance beneath the scorching sun.
It was one of the few sights in the Deep Palace that could still offer a hint of refreshing coolness, and it was at its most beautiful.
Yet, no one was in the mood to appreciate this scenery.
In the Practice Room of Wenhua Hall, Xia Wuyang sat cross-legged, his aura as tranquil as the deep sea.
Several days had passed since he planted his netherworld traps in Ningxiang Pavilion. Yesterday, one of the thirteen replacements for Consort Ji had passed her assessment and was formally sent to a side hall of Qianqing Palace, ready to be summoned by Emperor Xia at any moment.

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