C1 Send Her to Someone Else!

"Wen Jiu, you belong to me now! I have waited for this moment for an entire decade, tossing and turning at night with the mere thought of you!" Zhao Fan shredded her garments in a frenzy...

Wen Jiu struggled to push him away, only to find herself utterly weak.

Her mind was a blur as she tried to dodge and cry out, "Chengyun! Meng Chengyun..."

It was Meng Chengyun who had escorted her to the palace, claiming the Empress Dowager had summoned her. Yet here she was on the Moon Seizing Platform, having sipped just one cup of wine, and her situation had spiraled into this chaos. Surely, Meng Chengyun couldn't have gone far.

Wen Jiu dashed to the edge of the pavilion, where the night breeze lifted the curtains, revealing the figure whose robes billowed in the wind—he was indeed still there!

Zhao Fan closed in on her, "Looking for Minister Meng? I suggest you abandon that hope. He's soon to wed the princess and become her prince consort. That very cup of wine you drank was his gift to me!"

"I don't believe it!" Lights danced before Wen Jiu's eyes as the world seemed to spin. She couldn't manage two steps before tumbling to the ground, "Chengyun... save me!"

"Jiu." Meng Chengyun emerged from behind the curtains, his voice soft, "Stay with King Ming. His affection and loyalty to you run deep."

His words, light as they were, struck Wen Jiu like a thunderclap. She staggered to her feet, stumbling towards him.

"Affection and loyalty? You're set to marry the princess, to become part of the royal family, and yet you'd trade me away as a mere stepping stone? Meng Chengyun, you truly know how to exploit everything to its fullest!"

At twenty-nine, Wen Jiu had spent fourteen years rising from a destitute farm girl to the wealthiest woman in the Great Yan Dynasty. She had endured hardships and reaped luxuries that most women of her station could scarcely dream of.

Women her age were marrying off their children, while Wen Jiu had been toiling for Meng Chengyun. Whatever he needed—money, connections—she provided without question. Meng Chengyun's rise to Minister was paved with the fortune she had invested in him!

At the age of fifteen, Wen Jiu's innocence was brutally taken by an intruder in her own home, and her grandmother sold her to the Xie Family's ailing heir to bring them good fortune. It was Meng Chengyun who gave up everything to whisk her away into the night. From that moment on, Wen Jiu vowed to stand by him through life and death.

Despite her strong aversion to him, she devoted herself to helping Meng Chengyun, who had sought refuge with the King of Ming. Knowing herself to be tainted, she never dared to dream of marrying him. Yet, as the years passed and he remained unwed, their neighboring lives brought her contentment. A shared meal and a few words in their spare time were more than enough for her.

But now... the man she believed would be her lifelong confidant had traded her to Zhao Fan for power and position. Her years of dedication seemed a laughable waste.

Meng Chengyun insisted, "I did it all for your own good."

"For my own good? Ha... Hahaha..." Wen Jiu stumbled backward, laughter tinged with despair.

Zhao Fan sneered as he advanced, "You're no paragon of virtue—a woman ruined and unweddable. It's your great fortune that this king deigns to favor you."

His voice was a whisper in her ear, "The Little Emperor's days are numbered. Soon, I will ascend the throne. I will treat you well, ensuring you a lifetime of glory and riches. Don't make a fuss."

Wen Jiu's ears rang as she resisted with all her might, and for a moment, he was powerless against her.

Zhao Fan pursued her relentlessly until they reached the balcony. In a sudden twist, Wen Jiu turned and lunged at him. The weathered wooden railing, long neglected and weakened, snapped with a crack, and they plummeted together.

She was a businesswoman at heart; even in death, she refused to be at a loss.

As Wen Jiu hung in midair, the wind rushed by, filled with the sounds of many voices calling out to her.

In the distance, fire blazed, spreading rapidly as tens of thousands of soldiers encircled the palace. The sentries raised the alarm: "King Heng has led a hundred thousand troops into the palace... for the cleansing of the royal court!"

Wen Jiu crashed onto the platform below, her blood staining the white marble. In her final breath, she saw a figure in dark robes on a white horse charging toward her. Though she couldn't see his face, she closed her eyes for the last time, at peace.

Xie Heng has come back.