mesbooks Chapter 411 His Highness the Crown Prince is Outstandingly Talented (49)
Chapter 411 His Highness the Crown Prince is Outstandingly Talented (49)
Since that reconciliation at the hot spring pool, which could hardly be called a reconciliation, Jiu Fangcheng has indeed restrained himself a lot. At least on the surface, he no longer makes any comments about Lin Shen's visit to Lin Ming.
He resumed his daily routine of moving around the Eastern Palace, attending meetings, accompanying the emperor, and sometimes even silently following behind Lin Shen, like a silent and loyal black shadow.
However, Lin Shen's inner tension did not ease with Jiu Fangcheng's return; instead, it tightened even more.
When he was alone in his study, his fingertips would unconsciously tap on the table, calculating the time.
According to the original story, at this point in time, the male and female protagonists who bear the "destiny" should already be secretly contacting various forces.
His only task was to survive.
To survive... such a simple yet incredibly difficult phrase.
In the original work, the original owner's fate was as clear as a brand—pierced by ten thousand arrows, dying without a complete corpse.
But then he came, and he changed so much.
The eldest prince was impressed by him and was no longer his mortal enemy.
The Third Prince's faction had already been recruited by him and no longer posed a threat.
The Fourth Prince, Lin Ming, is now dependent on and close to him, and has no motive to rebel.
With Jiu Fangcheng by his side, the Jiu Fang family is his strongest backing.
Even the relationship between the Imperial Advisor and the Emperor of Qi is far more harmonious than it was in the original story, thanks to his efforts over the years.
And Cheng Song, who colluded with the male and female leads and betrayed them at a crucial moment in the original story, is now behaving himself and has not had any contact with any suspicious forces.
All the hidden dangers seemed to have been eliminated, and the trajectory of fate should have tilted towards safety.
But, is it really so?
Lin Shen dared not let his guard down.
He was well aware of the terrifying inertia of the plot, and he also understood that the male and female protagonists were burdened with "destiny," and it was hard to guarantee that they wouldn't have other unexpected trump cards or opportunities.
He secretly dispatched his most capable bodyguards to the Southern Continent—the site of the uprising in the original story—to closely monitor any movement.
The news that came back was that everything was calm and there were no unusual circumstances.
It's too quiet... abnormally quiet.
This calm before the storm allowed Lin Shen's unease to grow wildly like vines.
Perhaps it was this constant mental tension that caused him to have inexplicable headaches these past few days.
At first, it was just a slight throbbing pain, which he didn't pay much attention to, assuming it was due to his busy schedule with official duties.
However, the pain gradually worsened, feeling as if steel needles were piercing his skull, especially in the dead of night, making it difficult for him to sleep peacefully.
The head physician of the Imperial Medical Bureau came to examine the prince personally. He stroked his beard and pondered for a long time before finally concluding that "His Highness is overthinking, causing his liver yang to rise, which is a sign of headache." He then prescribed several remedies to calm the mind and relieve pain.
Looking at the bitter medicine, Lin Shen could only manage a bitter smile.
Was he overly worried? He was indeed worried, but it was certainly not about ordinary political affairs.
Even though everything in reality is getting better, why does he feel so uneasy? Why does the original ending, which should have been changed, keep replaying in his dreams like a leech?
……
That night, the Eastern Palace was deathly silent.
Lin Shen lay on the bed, tossing and turning. He finally managed to fall asleep due to exhaustion and the effects of the medicine, but was instantly pulled into a deeper nightmare.
No longer a bystander, he stood personally amidst that familiar, nauseating mountain of corpses and sea of blood.
His feet were covered in thick, still-uncongealed blood, which soaked through his brocade boots, making the hem of his robe feel as heavy as if it were filled with lead.
The strong smell of blood and the burnt smell of corpses mingled together, hitting the top of my head.
He looked down and saw that his slender fingers were covered with dark red blood and mud, and his fingernails were filled with blackish-red filth.
The sky was a depressing, despairing leaden gray.
Then, that teeth-grinding sound of air being torn apart rang out again! Clearer and more frequent than in any dream!
Countless black dots, like a swarm of locusts seeking death, shot in from all directions, the shrill sound of arrows tearing through the air almost piercing his eardrums.
The chilling feeling of death gripped his heart instantly. He tried to move, but his body was firmly locked in place by invisible chains, unable to lift even a finger.
Just when he thought he was doomed, a dark figure, as fast as lightning and with an incomparably resolute aura, suddenly pounced from the side and front, using a body half a head taller than him to completely protect him behind him!
He let out a silent cry in his heart, and his pupils suddenly contracted.
He desperately tried to see who was blocking his way, but his vision was blurred as if veiled by a thick bloody mist. All he saw was that familiar black robe, the one he had seen earlier that day, instantly pierced by countless arrows gleaming with cold light!
The muffled thuds were the sounds of sharp blades tearing through flesh and breaking bones, so frequent they sent chills down one's spine.
Warm liquid, with a strong smell of rust, splashed all over his body and face like a sudden downpour of red plum blossoms.
The dark figure shuddered violently, unable to utter a complete cry of pain, before falling heavily and lifelessly backward as if all support had been removed.
With a muffled thud, it crashed into the pool of blood, pierced by a thousand arrows, and its breath died instantly.
That face... that face was so close, yet he couldn't make it out! He could only see a blurry, bloody outline.
"..."
Lin Shen felt as if his throat was being tightly choked, unable to utter a sound.
He wanted to rush over, to embrace the body that had shielded him from the arrow, to see that face clearly, to ask why…
But his feet seemed nailed to the spot, and he could only watch helplessly as the dark color was stained with more and more blood, turning it dull and lifeless.
An immense, heart-wrenching grief and a sense of powerlessness overwhelmed him like a tsunami.
Unable to bear the weight, he stumbled and fell to the ground in a sorry state.
Before he could recover from the excruciating pain, a cold, deathly chill pressed against his heart.
It wasn't arrows, but countless longswords gleaming with a cold, eerie light, their tips aimed precisely at his heart, reflecting off his pale face.
……
Lin Shen suddenly sat up in bed, his heart pounding wildly, almost bursting out of his throat.
The excruciating headache was like a volcanic eruption, exploding inside his skull, a thousand times more painful than the dream of being pierced by a thousand arrows.
It wasn't just physical pain; it was also mixed with immense fear, sorrow, and despair brought on by the dream, which almost completely destroyed his sanity.
"Ugh—!" he screamed in agony, clutching his head tightly with both hands as if it were about to split open, his fingernails digging into his scalp, leaving red marks.
He uncontrollably pounded his temples with his fists, trying to alleviate the inhuman pain through this self-harm.
"Bang—crash—!"
In the struggle, his elbow swept hard across the calming teacup and several books on the bedside table.
The ear-piercing sound of porcelain shattering exploded like thunder in the still of the night.
Almost simultaneously, a pale white lightning bolt flashed outside the palace, cleaving the night sky like a sharp sword, instantly illuminating the bedchamber as bright as day. This was followed by a deafening rumble of thunder, which made the window frames vibrate.
A torrential downpour suddenly began, with large raindrops pounding wildly against the glazed tiles and tightly closed windows, as if a hole had been torn in the sky.
"Your Highness!"
"Your Highness, what's wrong?!"
The palace servants and eunuchs guarding the outer hall were completely awakened by the loud noise, thunder, and the Crown Prince's obviously abnormal painful groans. They rushed in with lanterns, their souls flying.
Their Crown Prince was curled up on the bed, his hands tightly clutching his head, his body convulsing uncontrollably from the excruciating pain, his face as pale as paper, cold sweat already soaking through his thin nightgown, and even the bottom of his tightly bitten lip was oozing crimson blood.
He let out suppressed whimpers, like a wounded beast, from his throat, clearly enduring immense pain.
"Quick! Go and fetch the Imperial Physician! Hurry!" The head eunuch's voice trembled as he sternly urged the terrified young eunuch while trying to soothe him, "Your Highness, Your Highness, please relax, the Imperial Physician will be here soon, soon..."
But Lin Shen seemed completely cut off from the outside world, still immersed in the dual torment of headache and nightmare, painfully pounding his head.
The palace servants were in a flurry of activity. Some tried to press down on the prince's hand that was hurting him, some rushed to fetch hot water and handkerchiefs, and some were so panicked that they were spinning around in circles. The usually solemn and orderly East Palace was now in complete chaos.