The scene inside the grand hall was a vibrant, sensual tableau—and an utterly absurd one.
A group of new Jiangnan Beauties, clad in gauze robes as sheer as a cicada’s wings, danced gracefully in the hall. The garments were so thin there was little difference between wearing them and wearing nothing at all.
Each possessed skin as smooth as cream and a supple waist. As they danced, their skirts flew up, revealing long, straight, flawless legs and slender ankles. Tiny golden bells were tied to their ankles, tinkling with their every step, making the scene exceptionally alluring.
Several Fox Girls from the Demon Race were also curled on soft cushions, their fluffy tails swaying languidly. Their amber eyes were half-lidded, their expressions hovering between sleep and wakefulness, a smile and a blank stare, ready at any moment to receive Xia Wuyang’s favor.
They wore even more revealing short blouses and gauze trousers, exposing large swathes of snow-white skin and graceful curves. Occasionally, they would let out delicate giggles, drawing sidelong glances from those around them, but they paid it no mind whatsoever.
The most eye-catching of all were the Cat Girls. Their fluffy cat ears twitched sensitively, and their downy tails swayed gently behind them.
They chased one another around a giant embroidered ball, their movements a mix of playful and cute. When one occasionally pounced on a companion, she would let out a soft "meow," a sound so heart-melting it made one want to lie down on the spot.
And at the center of it all was a wide Purple Sandalwood divan. Reclining upon it was none other than the current Crown Prince of Great Xia, Xia Wuyang.
He wore a loose-fitting, moon-white silk shirt, its collar hanging wide open to reveal a withered chest and ribs so prominent they looked no different from a rack of spare ribs.
His white hair hung loose, and the deep wrinkles covering his face seemed even more pronounced in the dim, yellow light, making him appear all the more ancient.
His cloudy old eyes were half-lidded, wine stains lingered at the corners of his mouth, and the stench of alcohol on him was almost palpable.
His withered hand was wrapped around a young woman in a pale pink dress. The woman, who looked to be in her teens, was in the middle of feeding him a peeled lychee.
Another beauty in blue knelt by his feet, her slender, delicate hands gently massaging his legs with earnest, meticulous care.
Occasionally, she would look up to give him a coquettish glance, prompting the elder Crown Prince to chuckle lewdly. He reached out to caress her waist, his hand lingering there for a long time before he was willing to let go.
Around the divan lay a scatter of empty wine jugs, fruit pits, half-eaten pastries, and even some items of women’s intimate apparel. The air was thick with the decadent odor of overindulgence, making it obvious what had taken place.
Pan Mo stood at the entrance to the hall, her expression grim.
However, she was clearly prepared, as this was not the first time she had witnessed such a scene. Thus, she showed no great emotional reaction.
It was just that when she thought of the high-spirited Crown Prince of old and then looked at the increasingly ancient and decadent man before her, Pan Mo still found it hard to accept.
Her face paled unknowingly, and her nails dug deep into her palms, yet she felt no pain.
The scene before her was like a blade of ice, stabbing cruelly into the softest part of her heart.
It wasn’t because Xia Wuyang was indulging in hedonistic pleasures with a woman on each arm, but because of how increasingly decrepit he appeared.
"Mo’Er, let’s go. In his final days, all that matters is that the Crown Prince is happy," Yun Liyue said, gently taking her cold hand. Her own voice was tinged with sorrow.
Her gaze swept across the scene in the hall. Her cool, clear eyes showed no anger, no disappointment, only an almost imperceptible trace of worry and concern.
Pan Mo turned her head mechanically to look at her. Her eyes filled with tears, but she stubbornly refused to let them fall.
"Sister Liyue, the Crown Prince... does he truly only have a few months left? Is it really impossible for him to be that mysterious expert?" Her voice trembled violently. She didn’t care that Xia Wuyang reveled day and night; she only cared about how much longer he had to live.
Yun Liyue hesitated for a moment but couldn’t bear to lie to her. "Even if the Crown Prince hadn’t been crippled, he’s still over seventy years old. It’s impossible for him to have that kind of power."
She spoke these words very softly, but they were like the final straw, crushing the last glimmer of fantasy in Pan Mo’s heart.
’That’s right. If the Crown Prince truly possessed such skill, how could he have fallen to this state? How could he be content to waste away in this land of soft comforts, allowing others to look down on him?’
’That mysterious expert must be an old acquaintance from the Crown Prince’s Mansion, not the Crown Prince himself.’
’He saved me out of consideration for old times, for the sake of the Crown Prince from back then. He is merely connected to the Crown Prince; he is not the Crown Prince.’
Suddenly, Pan Mo smiled, a smile as tragically beautiful as shattered crystal.
"Let’s go, Sister Liyue. The Crown Prince... as long as the Crown Prince is well, that’s all that matters." She whispered, her voice having regained its calm, but beneath that placid surface hid an even deeper torrent of emotion.
She didn’t dare to cast another glance into the hall. She turned and walked out of Wenhua Hall with steady steps.
The sunlight was harsh. She narrowed her eyes slightly and raised a hand to shield them.
Her fingertips brushed against her cheek. It was ice-cold. She realized then that tears had been silently streaming down her face, though she herself had been unaware.
Yun Liyue followed at her side, the hem of her moon-white skirt brushing against the polished stone steps without a sound.
She glanced at Pan Mo’s pale, stubborn profile and sighed inwardly. ’To think that even now, Pan Mo’s devotion to Xia Wuyang remains as deep as ever, never having wavered.’
’If only that mysterious expert were actually the Crown Prince, how wonderful that would be. Then so many people wouldn’t have to be heartbroken anymore.’
’But who on earth is this mysterious expert?’
’He’s stepped in to help so many times. Is it really just to repay a debt? What is his connection to the Crown Prince’s Mansion?’
’Will we really have to wait until the Crown Prince passes away to find out who he is?’
Yun Liyue gazed at the sprawling palace complex in the distance, a deep and complex flicker of doubt passing through her cool, clear eyes.
「Meanwhile, inside Wenhua Hall.」
On the divan, the elder Crown Prince drank a cup of iced plum wine offered by the beauty, then deliberately gave her a sound kiss.
His cloudy old eyes lifted slightly, glancing toward the two slender figures gradually disappearing from the hall’s entrance. A trace of tenderness crossed his face.
’To think that even after seeing a scene like this, my companions are still so deeply devoted to me.’
’Soon. It won’t be long now. Everything will come to an end.’
The days in the Deep Palace were long, and this grand drama was finally nearing its curtain call.
A few days later, White Jade City welcomed the first drenching thunderstorm of the summer.
Leaden clouds pressed low over the Imperial City, and muffled thunder rumbled deep within them like the roar of a trapped beast.
In the afternoon, a blinding flash of lightning rent the sky, followed immediately by an explosive clap of thunder that seemed to shake heaven and earth.
Fat raindrops hammered down, and in an instant, the bluestone paths of the Palace Lane were drenched and glistening, leaving almost no place to escape the deluge.
The withered lotuses in Taiye Pool swayed violently in the downpour. Their decayed petals were beaten from their stems, left to float on the murky water, swirling toward the drainage culverts.
The roar of the rain was like a waterfall, concealing all the sounds in the Deep Palace that were not meant to be heard—and some secrets that were not meant to be known.
But within the Warm Fragrance Pavilion, in the rear of Qianqing Palace, the air was as balmy as a spring day. A warm fragrance wafted through the air, a stark contrast to how it usually was.

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