The Mirror of Startling Beauty: Her courtiers are everywhere

"Didn't Lord Shen hear what I said?"

Bei Chenji's voice echoed throughout the punishment hall, each word like ice shards striking the bluestone bricks with an invisible resonance.

He turned to Shen Xian, the corner of his crimson robe arcing darkly in the candlelight, his tone leaving no room for argument, imbued with the domineering power of authority.

"Your Highness, please forgive me. Miss Shen still owes six lashes."

The sound of someone brushing their clothes rang out at that moment.

She took a half step forward, the gilded phoenix-patterned token in her hand gleaming warmly in the candlelight.

"According to Article 4 of Chapter 7 of the Chen Law: Punishment Rules, no one may leave the courtroom before the punishment is completed—this is an ironclad rule personally approved by the late emperor."

She paused, then looked up and met his cold gaze directly into his eyes:

"If Your Highness wishes to take people away, please present His Majesty's decree of amnesty."

As soon as he finished speaking, the courtroom fell into a deathly silence, as if it were a tomb.

The candlelight flickered in Bei Chenji's eyes, making his pupils appear even darker and deeper, like swirling clouds gathering before a blizzard.

He did not react immediately, but slowly turned his eyes, his gaze falling on Fuyi as if it were a physical object.

It was a cold, almost cruel scrutiny—like an eagle on a snow-capped mountain looking down at a young rabbit below, unhurried and calm, yet sending chills down the spine of the one being observed.

The air seemed to have solidified into a gel, and every breath required great effort.

His fingertips, which were holding the token, trembled slightly as he brushed his robes aside.

She felt an almost tangible pressure emanating from the man, like a tidal wave, pressing heavily on her heart.

Breathing became difficult, and a metallic, metallic taste rose in my throat, but my back straightened even more—I couldn't back down.

She flicked her robes; she was from the Hall of Longevity.

It represents Princess Mirror's eyes, and also her spine.

"You," Bei Chenji finally spoke, his voice eerily calm, "what's your name?"

"This servant is Fuyi, Princess Jing's personal maid."

"very good."

He gave a very faint twitch at the corner of his lips, the smile not reaching his eyes, but only forming a cold arc on his lips.

"Looks like you're just like your master—"

He paused, then spoke slowly and deliberately:

"act recklessly."

Having said that, he stopped looking at Fuyi and went straight to Shen Yan, who was kneeling on the torture bench.

The sound of boots treading on the stone bricks was exceptionally clear in the deathly silence, each step feeling like a tread on the heartstrings, a tread on the edge of lawlessness.

He stopped in front of the torture bench, bent down, and extended his hand, which was covered by a black rhinoceros hood glove.

The gloves, embroidered with dark gold dragon patterns and inlaid with black iron armor at the knuckles, were weapons of war on the battlefield, yet at this moment they made an almost gentle gesture.

"Yunhua, can we go?"

His voice remained cold and hard, but his movements were surprisingly gentle.

He held Shen Yan's trembling arm, and even through her clothes, he could feel the shivering on her skin.

With a little effort, he helped her up from the torture bench, where she was almost completely exhausted.

Shen Yan used the momentum to stand up, but her body went limp, and she fell forward like a kite with a broken string.

"Your Highness..."

She looked up at him, her eyes brimming with tears, the pent-up grievances of the past hour finally bursting forth:

"Yunhua...I'm sorry to have troubled Your Highness."

"Don't speak."

Bei Chenji interrupted her, his gaze sweeping over the bloodstains spreading on her back.

The light blue fabric was torn by whip marks, revealing the red, swollen, and broken skin underneath, which gleamed with a poignant light under the candlelight.

His eyes darkened further as he removed the black mink cloak from his shoulders.

The cloak was lined with soft silver fox fur and covered with black satin. The collar was embroidered with a dragon chasing the sun in gold thread, which was a gift from the late emperor.

"Thank you for your kindness, Your Highness. You've gone to so much trouble."

Shen Yan knew that even if Shen Cuo couldn't save her, there was still the Prince of Beichen who could.

The Beichen clan are descendants of the founding heroes.

The official name of the Chenyao Dynasty is the Beichen Empire. From this name, one can understand the significance of the surname Beichen.

Undoubtedly, the founding ancestor of the Tangxi royal family and the ancestor of the Beichen clan were close friends who shared the empire.

The throne of Beichen has been passed down through generations, and to this day, its power has become immense.

Holding command of three million iron cavalry has clearly posed a threat to the emperor's imperial power.

Every Beichen King is the sharpest knife in the royal family, doing dirty things for the royal family that cannot be seen in the light of day.

But this knife is double-edged.

"The cloud painting is worth my trouble."

Bei Chenji carefully wrapped the cloak around her, his movements as slow as if he were handling a fragile piece of porcelain.

The dark down made her face appear even paler than paper, yet strangely added a touch of broken beauty, like a white plum blossom trampled in the snow, its withered petals still carrying a poignant beauty.

Throughout the entire process, Shen Xian stood silently.

His hand holding the whip hung limply at his side, his fingertips turning bluish-white from the force he exerted.

He was weighing his options.

Weighing the weight of law and power.

Finally, just as Bei Chenji was about to step out of the punishment hall with Shen Yan in his arms...

"Your Highness."

Shen Xian spoke, his voice low and deep.

Bei Chenji paused slightly, but did not turn around.

"Today's punishment was personally determined by Princess Mirror."

"If Your Highness intends to take people away, please... give this humble official an explanation."

He slowly turned around, his eyes, like chilled glass in the candlelight, swept across Shen Xian's face with a gaze as sharp as a blade:

"Shen Sinian, are you asking me for an explanation?"

The air suddenly tightened, like a fully drawn bowstring.

Fu Yi held her breath, watching the two men stand in silent confrontation.

A man in a purple robe, sharp as a drawn sword, surrounded by the bloody aura forged on the battlefield;

He was dressed in a blue robe, elegant as a bamboo swaying in the wind, yet his eyes held the stubborn spirit of a scholar.

The candlelight cast their shadows long and intertwined on the mottled brick wall, like two completely different forces colliding and surging in the abyss.

"Oh."

Bei Chenji suddenly smiled.

The smile was faint, yet it carried an almost cruel mockery:

"It's more like Prime Minister Shen is saying this to me. You—"

He paused, then looked Shen Xian up and down:

"They're still too young."

After saying that, he raised his hand.

A black iron token slid out from the sleeve, drawing a cold arc in the air.

"clang."

It landed on the stone brick in front of Shen Xian's feet with a thud, splashing up fine dust.

The token is entirely black, with an intricate dragon pattern engraved on the front, and a sharp "霁" character in the center that seems to pierce through the iron.

The reverse side is inscribed with twelve characters in small seal script:

"If I were to personally arrive, I would execute first and report later, and the entire northern border would respect me."

The decree of the monarchy, the vow of iron and blood.

"Is this explanation sufficient?" Bei Chenji's voice was calm and even.

The torture chamber was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

Shen Xian stared at the token at his feet, his Adam's apple bobbing with difficulty.

He knew what this was—the "Mysterious Iron Ji Character Token" bestowed upon the Prince of Beichen by the late emperor. The holder of the token could mobilize the three armies of Beichen, could execute first and report later, and could... crush anything that dared to stand in his way.

Including this execution platform.

Including everyone in the hall.

Cold sweat slid down his back, soaking the lining of his sky-blue official robe.

"Little Imperial Uncle, you're so majestic!"

A clear, melodious female voice, like the gentle tinkling of silver bells, came from outside the punishment hall at that moment.

The voice, tinged with laughter, languid, and playful, was like a thin blade, suddenly piercing the stagnant atmosphere.

Bei Chenji suddenly raised his eyes.

Shen Xian tightened his grip.

A light suddenly shone in Fuyi's eyes.

As the heavy wooden doors of the punishment hall were pushed open, and the howling wind and snow rushed in, a snow-white figure stood amidst the swirling snowflakes.

Tang Xixue wore a snow-white velvet cloak, the silver fox fur at the edges trembling slightly in the breeze, like a shoulder bathed in moonlight.

She wore no makeup, her long hair loosely tied up with a frosty white ribbon, a few stray strands brushing against her delicate profile, clinging to her cheeks in the cold wind.

Her lips were a natural crimson, like cinnabar splashed on snow, but her eyes held a frosty look, with a hint of weariness from a disturbed dream.

She walked step by step into the torture chamber, her boots clattering softly yet clearly over the bluestone bricks, creating a chilling rhythm in the deathly silence.

Behind her, the chill of dusk followed like a shadow.

His black robes blended almost seamlessly into the night, except for the long sword at his waist, which gleamed coldly in the candlelight—a sword that had drunk blood, the wear and tear on its scabbard telling tales of countless battles fought in the dark.

"Yo, little royal uncle~"

Tang Xixue stood still in the hall, her gaze first sweeping over Bei Chenji, then over Shen Yan who was trembling beside him, and finally landing on Shen Xian's pale face.

She tilted her head, a smile curving her lips:

"A hero rescuing a damsel in distress? That's quite a touching performance."

She smiled gently.

The smile didn't reach his eyes, but it made the temperature in the entire torture chamber drop by three points, and even the candlelight seemed to freeze and stop flickering.

"But it's a pity," she took half a step forward, "I haven't finished punishing all those I wanted to punish—"

She raised her eyes and looked directly at Bei Chenji:

"Little Imperial Uncle, you can't take him away."

"Tang, Xi, Xue"

Bei Chenji narrowed his eyes and called her name slowly and deliberately, each word seeming to be ground out from between his teeth, filled with undisguised disgust.

"What?" He sized her up, his gaze like a blade scraping across her slender neck. "You think you can stop me?"

Beneath the snow-white cloak, her figure was so slender that it seemed as if a gust of cold wind from the North would break her.

But the light in those eyes was as sharp as a blood-soaked blade.

"Yun Hua is so kind and gentle," Bei Chenji's voice turned cold, tinged with a protective malice, "only someone as malicious as you would make things so difficult for her."

"Tsk."

Tang Xixue raised an eyebrow, her gaze lightly landing on Shen Yan:

"Miss Shen was seen groping and hugging another man in the middle of the night. This behavior—"

She dragged out the melody, her voice seeping with a honeyed malice:

"What a fickle and shameless woman!"

Shen Yan trembled all over, her face turning deathly pale.

"Your brother is still here watching!"

Tang Xixue laughed even harder, her eyes sweeping over Shen Xian's stiff figure.

"This truly broadens my horizons—is this the model of a noble lady from a renowned family in the capital, raised by your Shen family?"

Every word and phrase was spoken equally to all members of the Shen family present at the event.

She took another step forward, almost touching Bei Chenji, and looked up into his gloomy eyes:

"Where is the young imperial uncle taking Miss Shen in such a hurry? Could it be...?"

She blinked, her tone as innocent as a child's:

"Shall we go to your own bed?"

"So young, yet you're so adept at it, little imperial uncle."