My brother entrusted his child to me, and I livestreamed raising the baby, making the Empress cry wi

Ashina didn't waste any words, getting straight to the point. His slightly hoarse voice came straight down from above the throne, crisp and decisive.

"Canaan, you mentioned before that when you escaped from the Great Flame Palace, you met someone named 'He Jin'?"

Canaan was startled, raised his head, and twitched his fingertips that were pressed against the ground. His fingernails scraped against the rough stone surface, making a very faint "shh" sound.

He had considered countless possible opening lines—

He was questioned, reprimanded, and even dragged away and whipped. He had even prepared a plea for mercy in his mind, but he never expected things to turn out this way.

He Jin? Why are you suddenly asking about him?

The name felt somewhat distant to him. He replied instinctively, his lips moving slightly, his voice dry and ragged as it rolled out of his throat: "Ah...yes."

Ashina looked down at him from his high position, his gaze sweeping down from the throne like an eagle eyeing its prey.

He leaned forward slightly, one hand supporting himself on the armrest, his knuckles resting on the leather bag.

The sunlight slanting down from the high window cast a huge shadow behind him.

The shadow stretched from the base of the throne, casting its light on the high wall behind him, making him appear like a black iron statue with sharp, knife-like features.

"Tell me everything you know about this 'He Jin,' without omitting a single detail!"

Canaan was startled by Ashina's sudden aura and instinctively pressed his forehead back to the ground, shrinking back even further.

However, after realizing what had happened, I was completely relieved, as long as they weren't there to interrogate me.

As for He Jin, his eyelids were half-closed, and his eyes rolled around under his thin eyelids as he tried to recall.

That day……

He first met He Jin in the latrine of the Great Flame Palace.

It was getting dark, and not all the lanterns in the palace had been lit yet; only a few were scattered along the roadside.

The dim, yellowish light swayed in the wind, making the vermilion palace walls look like pools of slowly flowing blood.

Those golden bricks and jade tiles that were once dazzling in the sunlight have now lost their color and turned into patches of gray shadows.

In the distance, the faint sounds of palace servants' hurried footsteps and screams could be heard, occasionally mixed with the crisp sound of porcelain shattering.

The palace was in complete chaos. Everyone was scrambling to grab valuables and run out, no one wanted to stay behind and become a target for Shu Jingwei's anger or cannon fodder, who might return at any moment.

The lamps under the eaves of the various halls were knocked around by the panicked people, their candlelight flickering and twitching on the ground, making the faces of every passerby look distorted and unfamiliar.

Wang Meng's troops have already entered the capital.

Canaan had been hiding in the palace to facilitate contact with Shurou, but now he was trapped.

He can't go out with the palace servants running around like crazy yet. The palace gates are right next to Zhuque Avenue, and once Wang Meng enters the city, he'll definitely follow this closest street to the palace.

To impersonate a divine messenger, he dressed in bizarre and outlandish clothes—

He wore a black robe with cloud patterns and stars embroidered on the hem, a sash covered with incomprehensible symbols around his waist, and a tall crown on his head with half of his hair tied up inside the crown and the other half hanging down.

If I ran out wearing this outfit, and happened to run into Wang Meng's men, I would definitely be caught and questioned.

Having no other option, Canaan had to gamble in the latrine.

After all, everyone has to relieve themselves eventually, and there will definitely be palace servants who can't hold it in and need to relieve themselves. Then, you can "friendly" borrow some clothes from them.

He crouched low and darted past, brushing against the shadows of the walls, without attracting the attention of any palace servants.

Finally, he chose a latrine that was a necessary stop on the main road leading from the inner palace to the outside of the palace.

The outhouse was clearly intended for servants; it was a low, earthen hut with a thick cloth curtain hanging at the door and only a candle inside.

He hid behind the solid wood screen next to the chamber pot.

That screen must be very old; the wood has turned black from the dampness, and the lacquer is cracked with spiderweb-like patterns, as rough as old tree bark.

A thick, foul odor hung in the air, mixed with cheap incense, pressing down on my nose in a stifling way.

He crouched down, his body curled up in the gap between the screen and the wall, one arm pressed tightly against the cold wall, listening carefully to the sounds outside.

People arrived shortly afterward, their footsteps approaching rapidly and erratically.

He was a young eunuch. He looked no more than fifteen or sixteen years old, as thin as a stick, with a fair complexion, but at this moment his face was filled with forbearance, and his eyebrows were furrowed so deeply they could trap a fly.

He had an upset stomach that afternoon and originally intended to hold it in until he left the palace, but on his way out, he suddenly saw this outhouse.

The eunuch's sphincter, which he had barely managed to close with all his might, must have smelled the latrine and could no longer hold on. All the pent-up energy was released at once, and he almost defecated on the spot.

His face instantly turned a deep liver color, veins bulged on his forehead, and his teeth clenched so tightly they made a grinding sound.

He threw the bundle in his hand into the nearby bushes of dead trees to make sure it was invisible from the outside.

He quickly clenched his buttocks, contorted his face, crossed his legs in an extremely strange position, and limped into the outhouse.

Without even taking a closer look, he pulled down his trousers and sat on the chamber pot in front of him, his belt still hanging on his legs, one end of the linen tie falling to the ground.

The popping sounds immediately became incessant.

The sound was urgent and rapid, like muffled thunder in summer, exploding one after another in the clouds.

Occasionally, a long, gurgling sound would be interspersed throughout, like a mountain torrent that had been brewing for a long time finally being released.

A smell ten times stronger than before suddenly wafted out, billowing and steaming, making Canaan, who was hiding behind the screen on the other side, feel suffocated and cover his mouth and nose.

The young eunuch let out a sigh of relief, and his face, which had been contorted for a while, finally relaxed.

His thin shoulders slumped down, as if a heavy burden had been lifted from his shoulders, and even his hair exuded a sense of relief and relaxation.

However, at his most vulnerable and helpless moment, a gloomy male voice suddenly sounded behind him: "Take off your clothes!"

At the same time, a cold object was pressed against his neck.

The touch was thin and sharp, with the unique chill of metal. It was pressed against the warm skin on the side of his neck, so cold that all the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and goosebumps rose all over his back.

Just then, the candle flame suddenly jumped up and then receded, causing the light in the latrine to flicker for a moment.

The shadow on the screen twitched, as if something terrifying had silently grinned in the cramped space.

The young eunuch was so frightened that his legs went weak and he almost fell into the chamber pot.

Canaan's heart tightened at the sight of his clothes!

Fortunately, he held on in the end. The little eunuch was trembling like a leaf, and he was so frightened that he held back the rest of his excrement.

He didn't care about his rear end; he bent his knees and knelt down, his legs hitting the muddy floor of the latrine with a dull thud.

She didn't dare turn around, but raised her hands above her head, and her high-pitched, tearful voice followed.

"Have mercy, sir! Have mercy, sir! I just came to take a dump, I don't know anything!"