Favored concubine deposed empress? I'll seize your throne and marry you to a powerful minister.

The sea of ​​clouds surged atop the cliff, while the hunting grounds were deathly silent.

The officials looked down into the abyss, and everyone felt a sense of dread, thinking that if the emperor and empress fell together, their bodies would surely be lost forever.

Ling Xianru stood on the edge of the cliff, her fingertips still seemingly warm from the touch of Wei Rong's clothes.

He was never one to fear death. He had spent half his life scheming and was decisive in killing. He could plan everything with ease, but the only thing he couldn't afford to gamble with was Wei Rong's life or death.

The cliff face was slippery with moss, and sharp stone edges cut the skin on my palms, causing blood to drip down the rugged rock face and fall into the vast mist.

A cold wind pierced through their clothes, and the valley floor was filled with a sinister miasma. The further they went down, the more ravaged the forest became, with fallen branches scattered everywhere. Several large, heavy black bear paw prints were imprinted on the soil, and the stench of the beast assaulted their senses.

Listening to the envy felt as if his heart had suddenly sank.

"Sir, there's a bear!"

A ferocious beast lurked at the bottom of the cliff. She fell off the cliff and was seriously injured. If she did not die immediately, she would be doomed if she fell into the bear's mouth.

This place is perpetually dark, and the miasma and venomous snakes pose deadly dangers.

Even though Ling Xianru was wearing armor, she was still scratched all over by the vines and thorns at the bottom of the cliff. Fine pain lingered on her body. Oh, it was both uncomfortable and anxious.

Wei Rong was completely unprotected, wearing only a dress, and she dared not even think about what would happen if she fell.

"Scatter and search for people, speed up!" At Ling Xianru's command, the Imperial Guards scattered.

As dawn approached, they held torches, seemingly able to sense the menacing gazes of wild beasts lurking in the darkness on both sides.

She dared not gamble at all. Ling Xianru dared not think about the two people who had fallen to the bottom of the cliff, and how the smell of blood would attract wild beasts.

Without weapons or any defenses, if Wei Rong were to encounter a wild bear, she would almost certainly lose her life.

"Crunch—"

The sound of breaking dead wood echoed constantly beneath my feet, making it extremely difficult to see.

But suddenly, Ling Xianru raised her hand, stopping her from moving forward.

He heard a painful groan from the darkness.

"Save...save me!"

Below the low slope.

Ling Xianru took the initiative, leaping off the last section of the cliff. The moment she landed, she saw Xiao Heng, disheveled and broken, in the thicket of bushes.

The once supreme emperor has long since lost all his majesty.

His dragon robe was torn to shreds, his body covered in blood and mud, his right leg bent and dislocated, and most tragically, his left arm was crushed by a boulder, the white bone exposed, the flesh turned inside out, and blood gushing out. The pain of severed limbs was enough to break a normal person's will. The rain washed over the hideous wounds again and again, the excruciating pain causing him to tremble violently, his teeth clenched until blood flowed freely.

He lay on the ground, barely breathing, his cloudy eyes filled with a fanatical madness. The moment he saw Ling Xianru, he forced a smile and asked, "Wei Rong...where is she?"

In the instant they fell off the cliff, Wei Rong desperately pulled him down with her. But as they collided with the boulder in mid-air, their forces clashed. He was cushioned by the cliff wall and landed on the ground, while her slender body was swept away by the rushing tributary at the bottom of the valley and instantly disappeared into the turbulent waves.

He survived, but his arm was crippled, like a useless hand, and he was disabled for half his life.

Her fate remains unknown, and she has vanished without a trace.

Ling Xianru looked down at his miserable appearance, her eyes filled with no pity, only a chilling coldness.

All the torment Xiao Heng is experiencing today is retribution for slaughtering loyal and virtuous people and betraying the common people.

"You're only clinging to life to confess in court and pay the blood debt you owe the Wei family."

He coldly uttered a sentence and didn't look at it again.

He ordered someone to take Xiao Heng back to the cliff first, and then Ling Xianru hurried downstream along the stream.

Wei Rong was not with Xiao Heng; she must have fallen into the water.

This made Ling Xianru breathe a sigh of relief, but also take another deep breath.

Water can block the transmission of the smell of blood, but if Wei Rong cannot swim, it will be even more fatal.

The rain stopped sometime ago, and moonlight peeked out from behind the clouds, casting a faint glow on the patch of sky and earth at the bottom of the cliff.

Ling Xianru suddenly remembered many years ago.

He was tricked into being lured into the desolate mountains, and on that night he was surrounded by wolves, there was moonlight.

It was a full moon night.

The wolf pack narrowed its encirclement and gradually closed in, each wolf emitting a low, eager growl.

In his desperate situation, he truly believed he was going to die in the jaws of wolves.

I felt both resentful and relieved.

He was born into a family that was obsessed with profit. His mother was given drugs during childbirth and died before he was born.

Lingxian was literally ripped out of her mother's womb.

From the moment he was born, he has never had a single day of peace.

When he was five years old, his nanny, having exhausted all other options, devised a plan to make him fake his death, thereby sending him to an ordinary farming family where he was able to live peacefully for several years.

At the age of ten, he was found to be still alive, and from then on began an endless escape.

At the age of twelve, he was somewhat self-loathing.

What is the meaning of life when one is constantly on the move and in exile?

That feeling of having to be constantly on guard even in my dreams is exhausting.

It seemed that, apart from the old woman, no one in the world wanted him to live.

Just when he had laid down his sword in the face of the wolves, Wei Rong appeared.

She was still just a wet-headed child, and needed someone to protect her while riding a horse.

Yet they said with such certainty, "Two hundred arrows rained down; whether they survive or not depends on their fate."

She couldn't risk her own people's lives, yet she wanted to save these complete strangers.

Two hundred arrows cleaved another hole in his desperate situation.

Ling Xian thought, since she couldn't die, she might as well live.

Go and fight for everything that belongs to him.

If he were to die like this, those who wanted him dead would be too happy.

...The girl who wanted him to live might also be heartbroken.

"Ling Xianru..." Xiao Heng's weak voice came from behind: "You're not Ling Xianru, are you?"

Ling Xianru paused slightly, but did not stop or give him any reply, continuing straight ahead.

The valley floor was hit by torrential rain, and the river was turbulent, carrying stones and dead branches downstream.

Ling Xianru followed the river downstream, her boots and trousers covered in mud, her eyebrows and eyes wet with dew, traversing mountains and valleys, her mind tense to the extreme.

The attendants could sense the oppressive aura emanating from the Prime Minister; it was dark and gloomy, making them afraid to disturb him.

Time continued to pass, and the sky grew brighter.

"My lord, there is no trace of the Empress along the way. If there are wild animals, there will surely be fragments of her clothing or other items. Please rest assured, your subordinates have already requested the allocation of manpower."

Ling Xianru was also soaked to the bone; he rarely looked so disheveled.

They had already traveled four or five miles along the stream, but there was still no trace of Wei Rong.

She was a severely injured woman at the bottom of this precipice, where any danger could be fatal.

The longer it drags on, the more likely it is to end badly.

He ran for miles, and as the first rays of sunlight appeared, a broken, pale figure stung his eyes amidst the wide, shallow rocks of the river.

Ling Xianru stopped walking, her heart suddenly tightened, and even her breathing almost stopped.

Wei Rong lay on her side on the cold, broken stones, covered in mud and blood. The wound on her forehead was gruesome, and scabs clung to her messy hair, covering half of her pale and beautiful face.

His limbs were covered in bruises and abrasions, his clothes were torn and tattered, and he was so cold that he felt no warmth at all. His chest was rising and falling so faintly that it was almost indistinguishable.

She lay there, unaware of how long she had been battered by the water, or whether she was alive or dead.