Disgust, The Eastlyn Imperial Family Has No Heart

Everyone knows that Feng Zhan died on the battlefield, sacrificing himself for the nation. Though he was defeated, for a soldier, dying in battle is considered an honor. But who truly knows just how unjust Feng Zhan’s death was...

Back then, when Eastlyn went to war with Southlyn, Feng Zhan was the vanguard general. Due to faulty intelligence, he fell into Southlyn’s encirclement. Sensing something was wrong, Feng Zhan suspected that someone in Eastlyn was secretly colluding with Southlyn, aiming to make Eastlyn lose the war.

Since he didn’t know who had betrayed Eastlyn, Feng Zhan didn’t dare openly send someone back for reinforcements, afraid that his messenger would be killed or intercepted. He secretly dispatched a trusted aide to the Capital to report directly to the Emperor and request urgent reinforcements.

Feng Zhan’s caution was justified. There really were people colluding with Southlyn, hoping this young famed general would die on the battlefield. Yet, of all the possibilities Feng Zhan considered, he never suspected the Emperor he loyally served.

Because of the Emperor’s delay, Feng Zhan never received reinforcements and died in battle.

Logically, once the Emperor received the military report and dispatched reinforcements, there should have been enough time. But Feng Zhan’s urgent message reached the palace gates and never made it to the Emperor. The reinforcements arrived three days after his death.

By the time reinforcements arrived, not even Feng Zhan’s remains could be found.

Before Feng Zhan’s urgent report reached the palace, the Lu clan from Shandong sent a singing-girl named Hu. The Emperor was instantly infatuated and summoned Hu to his bedchamber, spending three whole days and nights with her—neglecting all state affairs and duties, indulging only in her company.

Three days later, the Emperor finally emerged from the harem and saw Feng Zhan’s urgent report. He didn’t take it seriously. Feng Zhan was famous as an undefeated general, a master strategist known for winning against the odds—a rare young commander on the continent.

Feng Zhan had asked for reinforcements before; several times they’d arrived late or not at all, yet he’d always managed to hold out. This time, it was only three days late—the Emperor felt there was no real danger and had no sense of guilt, merely saying, “Suppress the news. Tell everyone Feng Zhan’s memorial just arrived.”

With the Emperor intent on covering up his disgrace, very few people knew the truth. He spent a day handling state affairs, discussing with his ministers the memorial that Feng Zhan had 'just' submitted, and planned to send a hundred thousand reinforcements. The civil and military officials all praised the Emperor’s wisdom.

After taking care of government business, the Emperor returned to the harem to amuse himself with his concubines—completely absorbed in pleasure and neglecting his duties. Many ministers and censors submitted memorials urging him to focus on the nation, but he ignored them all. Even Prince Samuel tried to persuade him, but it was useless.

However, because of the Feng Zhan incident, the Emperor didn’t dare stay in the harem for days on end anymore. He began to set aside a little time each day to handle official matters.

As for Feng Zhan’s case, the Emperor didn’t care at all. Since Feng Zhan had acted in secret, few knew the details, and the Emperor had already dealt with those who did. No one knew how Feng Zhan’s memorial was delivered, and no one would accuse the Emperor of neglecting state affairs for the sake of women.

But... no matter how much he tried to hide it, it was no use. Because the reinforcements arrived late, Feng Zhan’s entire army was wiped out, dying on the battlefield—his body trampled into pulp by warhorses.

The Emperor flew into a rage, blaming Feng Zhan and demoting the general who led the reinforcements, accusing him of mishandling military affairs. Everyone else was at fault—except the Emperor. Since Feng Zhan died in defeat, he was denied the honors he deserved.

Generals die a hundred deaths in battle; no one questioned Feng Zhan dying on the field. Even those who sensed something was wrong didn’t bother to investigate—Feng Zhan was dead, and the Emperor was furious, so no one wanted trouble. Every official was a seasoned schemer; even if they knew there was a problem, they wouldn’t pursue it. They muddled through as always.

Better to play dumb!

Although no one knew the Emperor was at fault for Feng Zhan’s death, he did feel guilty. For a long time, he didn’t indulge in Hu’s company again. But there are no secrets that last forever; others might not know, but Prince Samuel knew exactly how Feng Zhan died. Only...

He couldn’t expose the king’s misconduct for the sake of a dead man. Not only could he not speak of it, he had to help the Emperor keep it secret. Besides...

Even if the truth were exposed, so what? Does the Emperor ever have to answer for a subject’s death?

Of course not.

No one would ever say the Emperor was wrong; they’d just blame everyone else. Hu bewitched the monarch, the palace staff flattered and hid the truth, the Emperor was 'unaware,' merely deceived by petty schemers.

That’s why Prince Samuel says Feng Zhan died unjustly—a renowned general destroyed by a concubine, and worst of all, no one knew the truth. Everyone claimed it was Feng Zhan’s failure in command that killed him and the soldiers who charged with him.

As for Madame Feng’s death!

Serena could only say—the Empress truly deserved to be the Emperor’s wife; their hearts were equally cruel. What do they mean, ‘Madame Feng died saving the Empress’? That’s not what happened at all...

Her mother didn’t die saving the Empress—she was killed by her. Her mother didn’t shield the Empress from swords; the Empress dragged her in front as a human shield, and the Emperor used her mother’s body as a shield...

Her mother took several sword blows and didn’t die. But the Empress, afraid word would get out and she’d be condemned as unfit to be mother of the realm, ordered her mother pushed off a cliff—creating the false story that Madame Feng died saving the Empress, falling to her death. All witnesses were silenced.

Heaven’s net is vast, its mesh may be loose but nothing escapes. The Empress thought she’d eliminated all witnesses, but one senior palace maid, terrified, accidentally fell off the cliff too—just like her mother.

The maid was lucky; branches broke her fall and she survived. But her mother wasn’t so fortunate—stabbed several times, she was already dead when she hit the ground.

When the palace maid found her mother, the corpse had already been torn apart by wild beasts. Out of fear and sympathy, the maid found a mountain cave, dug a pit, and buried her mother’s bones there.

The maid took all the valuables from her mother’s body, leaving only the jade pendant she always wore.

There was no need for any tests—the bones were clearly her mother’s. She could no longer cling to false hope that her parents might still be alive just because their remains hadn’t been found...

"Sob... Eastlyn imperial family, you’ve gone too far. Why? Why?! Your lives count as lives, but my parents’ lives don’t? You lose your virtue, and my parents have to die to cover for you—why?!"

When Ninth Royal Uncle Nolan walked in, he saw Serena slumped over her desk, quietly sobbing. She didn’t even notice his arrival.

Nolan’s heart ached terribly. Serena was always alert, but now he’d walked in and she hadn’t noticed—showing just how devastated she was.

He blamed himself for coming too late!

When he heard the Emperor’s messenger in prison, Nolan didn’t care about exposing his strength or the people in the Clan Court—he dealt with the Emperor’s man on the spot and rushed straight to Feng Manor.

He knew exactly how much General Feng and Madame Feng meant to Serena. Their deaths were a lifelong regret she could never mend. With Night City’s heir bringing their remains and repeatedly insulting them, Serena was bound to be furious enough to kill.

Seeing Serena trembling with grief, Nolan didn’t bother brushing off the snow. He strode over, pulled her into his arms, and said, "Qingchen, don’t cry!"

You still have me. As long as I’m here, you’re not alone!