Chapter Fourteen: Wounds of Body and Soul

“Don’t change the topic. Tell me, in your eyes, which is more important—human life or your personal desires?” Emperor Guangde was so furious he could barely breathe, forcing the words out through clenched teeth.

The confusion on Ye Qianling’s face had already given him her answer. Taking a deep breath, he still waited for her reply. “Father, I truly don’t know how to answer that.”

“Speak.” With his temperament, one word meant he was already at the edge of his endurance.

“I really don’t know what to say,” Ye Qianling replied after some thought. “But if it’s a life that has nothing to do with me, why should their lives matter to me? Why compare the two at all?” She could see nothing amiss in her reasoning.

Emperor Guangde’s body sagged, leaning against the wall, his face more ashen than ever.

“Father, are you alright?” Ye Qianling tried to get up to support him, but her own pain was too great, and she collapsed to the ground instead.

Emperor Guangde fell into deep thought for a long while. Ye Qianling dared not make a sound, simply watching him quietly, waiting for him to speak.

“It’s my fault,” Emperor Guangde finally raised his head, eyes rimmed with red. “I’ve raised my child to become this way.” Ye Qianling instantly lost her composure, shuffling forward on her knees, desperate to reach him, but was stopped by his stern voice: “Stay where you are. Do not come closer.”

“Father, did I say something you didn’t like? You know I’m not good with words, please don’t be angry. Do with me as you wish, just please don’t be upset.” Ye Qianling was still bewildered, not understanding what could have provoked such fury in her father.

Seeing her so lost, Emperor Guangde gave a bitter laugh. “I am already in my middle years, and heaven chooses to play such a cruel joke on me.”

He looked at Ye Qianling, noticing the blood staining her clothes. He knew the imperial doctors had just treated her wounds and resisted the urge to lash out. “Ye Qianling, listen to me.” He sat down beside her, noticing her shudder. “There is nothing in this world more important than human life. Without life, nothing else matters.” His tone was patient, striving for gentleness.

“The life of the one you love is certainly precious, but so is everyone else’s. Life is equal. No matter what the circumstances, you must never take it lightly.” Seeing the confusion in her eyes, his heart ached all the more. “I know you learned martial arts from a young age, went to war, and have killed many on the battlefield. But killing in war is different from killing in daily life.”

He gently patted her head. “On the battlefield, it’s a matter of nations, of survival, of blood and sacrifice. But in daily life, no matter what happens, you must not kill. No hatred is worth seeking peace at the cost of another’s life—the law exists to judge such things.”

Ye Qianling nodded, still half-understanding, saying nothing.

Emperor Guangde knew she was still full of confusion. He reached out to examine her wound, but as soon as he touched her, her body trembled violently. Her face turned ashen as she looked up in terror, lips quivering, pleading, “Father, please, don’t.”

What was she begging for? He didn’t need to ask—she was begging him not to strike her. The anesthesia from her recent surgery had just worn off, and now came the excruciating pain of torn flesh. If she were hurt again, the stitches would tear, and the fragile bone might break once more. The very thought made Ye Qianling shudder.

She was, after all, a person too—she wanted to be comfortable, to be free from pain.

Seeing her so frightened, Emperor Guangde was overwhelmed with complicated emotions, unsure how to lessen the hurt he must inflict. After a long, silent stretch, he steeled himself, determined to force her to reconsider. “Qianling, will you really not speak the truth?”

“Father, it really was me. I know how grave this is—I wouldn’t be so foolish as to take the blame for another. Whatever you choose to do to me, I accept it willingly. After what happened to Mother, I truly feel I have no face left to live.” She finally spoke from her heart. One way or another, she had caused her mother’s death. Only death could bring her peace now.

Smack! Before her words had faded, the uninjured side of her face bore a fresh handprint. The blow was not heavy—not truly painful. She didn’t even know which of her words had been so wrong. Emperor Guangde gripped her shoulders, forcing her to look at him. Though he was grieving his wife, he summoned his strength to handle this matter. As the emperor, the world would never let him rest; even in exhaustion, he would be pushed relentlessly forward.

“I just told you, life is not a game. Never say such things again.” He knew she was suffering. Even now, he couldn’t believe Ye Qianling would kill Ye Qianhao. But the matter had reached a point where an explanation was required. No matter how closely the news was guarded, there were no secrets forever.

“Qianling, do you know the Southern Garden in the Western Outskirts?” he asked, testing her.

At his words, Ye Qianling was stunned, disbelief flooding her face as she tried to confirm what she’d heard. She knew she hadn’t misheard.

Seeing her panic, Emperor Guangde’s heart ached. “Qianling, I would never harm you. But this must have an answer for all. As emperor, I have no choice.”

“So you’re abandoning me, Father?” Ye Qianling bit down hard on her lip, forcing herself to smile as usual. But her eyes were already brimming with tears, blurring her vision. As the tears fell, she bowed her head, the drops splattering on her soiled, battered trousers. Pure white would always be pure white, never to be mixed with black.

Since ascending the throne, Ye Qianling had never called Emperor Guangde “Father.” Her position changed her—since becoming emperor, it was as if she’d become a lonely traveler, separated from him by an invisible wall. This was inevitable, no matter how deep their feelings ran; the gap of status could not be denied. “Emperor” was a title of reverence, of awe, but “Father” was the most ordinary, the most heartfelt bond, representing the simplest and purest love.

Less than twelve hours ago, Emperor Guangde thought he’d never again hear anyone in this world call him by that name. After today, perhaps he never would again experience this most genuine affection from his beloved daughter. What sorrow and helplessness could drive Ye Qianling to this point?

The Southern Garden in the Western Outskirts was the most secretive place in the Ye Dynasty, a training ground for shadow guards. Everyone there was stripped of emotion, existing only to follow their master’s orders. For their master’s sake, they would sell even their dignity and soul, becoming living corpses. Once inside, they lost their names, identified only by numbers—forever inferior, less than human. Branded as slaves for life, they could never change their fate.

Ye Qianling did not understand. She couldn’t grasp the boundaries of equality or difference in life. She treated guards and maids as equals, greeted everyone with a smile, and when troubled, hid in a corner to nurse her wounds, never burdening others with her pain. Wasn’t that respect for life’s equality? Every person was an individual, each life unique—wasn’t that the difference? Why, then, did such a person deserve such a fate? She had killed hundreds, thousands, so many she’d lost count, yet she’d never once regretted it. They all deserved to die. Why did this mean she didn’t understand the value of life? For those she loved, she would do anything; for those she hated, she would give her life to see them destroyed. To her, this was only natural.

“Why, Father? You can kill me, torture me however you wish, but why send me there?” The shock was too great for her to absorb. “You know what that place is. I imagined every possible answer—never did I think you’d do this to me.”

She was on the verge of collapse. When Emperor Guangde remained silent, she grabbed his wrists, forcing his hands together and, bursting with desperate strength, tried to strike them against her freshly stitched ribs, heedless of her life.

Emperor Guangde was startled by her actions. At first, he didn’t want to hurt her, but in her frenzy, she seemed to have lost all reason. He tried to pull away, but she wouldn’t let go. His face darkened, but he forced himself to be gentle. “Let go. Listen to me.”

Ye Qianling seemed deaf to his words, clutching him with all her might. With no alternative, seeing her hands nearly touch her wound, he jerked his arm sharply. She crashed into the wall, and with a heavy thud, she felt as though all her bones had shattered. In that fleeting moment, she managed to lift her head, saving it from the blow, but the freshly stitched wound tore open, blood soaking her clothes in an instant.

The pain seemed to restore a sliver of reason. Hearing Emperor Guangde’s low roar—“Come to your senses!”—she gave a bitter smile, glanced at the blood, and, tilting her head back, forced back her tears.

“Father, I accept my fate. If this is what’s destined, so be it. After all, I killed my brother and caused my mother’s death, didn’t I?” She smiled, her laughter crisp and clear, but tears spilled uncontrollably down her face.

“Qianling.” Emperor Guangde had never seen her like this. He wanted to explain, to tell her it wasn’t as she imagined, but her next words left his mind blank.

“Father, who is my master now?”