My Mother Was Murdered… So I Seduced the Emperor’s Sister for Ultimate Revenge!
Chapter 11 - The Empress’s Regret Comes Too Late! The Cruelty of Imperial Power!

Chapter 11: The Empress’s Regret Comes Too Late! The Cruelty of Imperial Power!

The deep palace was cold and silent.

The Empress curled up on a hard, icy bed, dressed in coarse cloth that chafed her skin with every slight movement. The rough stitching dug into her flesh—a far cry from the luxurious silks and entourage of attendants she had once commanded.

Outside the hall, a bitter wind howled, rattling the shuttered windows with the dry scrape of dead leaves. The air carried the persistent must of mildew and the faint, lingering tang of blood—a scent that had drifted in from beyond the palace walls.

It was the aftermath of Chen Pingping’s purge of the capital.

Her family. Her backing. Everything she had relied upon—wiped out in that cleansing.

Her face no longer bore the dignified elegance of the past.

Gaunt.

Sallow.

Her sunken eyes were like two black voids, swallowing the last traces of light.

Her lips, cracked and ashen.

She had thought that by eliminating Ye Qingmei, she could reclaim everything that was rightfully hers.

The Emperor’s affection.

The authority of the inner palace.

Her family’s glory.

She had succeeded.

Ye Qingmei was dead.

Slain in the meticulously orchestrated assassination she had plotted with her allies.

For a moment, she had been triumphant.

Exhilarated.

But that triumph was as fleeting as a night-blooming flower.

Laughably brief.

What followed was Chen Pingping’s deranged, unrestrained vengeance.

The Black Riders of the Overwatch Council swept through the capital like vengeful wraiths, shattering its peace—and her dreams along with it.

One by one, the families aligned with her fell.

One by one, the officials who had secretly conspired with her were dragged away.

Screams.

Pleas for mercy.

All silenced in the end.

Blood stained the streets.

She had watched.

Powerless.

Until finally, the flames reached her.

The Emperor—that exalted Son of Heaven, her own husband—had stood by indifferently the entire time.

He had not stopped Chen Pingping.

He had even sanctioned it all.

Only now did she realize the truth.

She had been nothing but a tool in the Emperor’s hands.

A blade to remove Ye Qingmei—that “thorn in his side.”

Ye Qingmei’s existence had threatened imperial authority.

It had threatened his absolute control as Emperor Qing.

So Ye Qingmei had to die.

And she, the Empress—along with the old noble factions behind her—had been the perfect executioners.

Use her hand to kill Ye Qingmei.

Then use Chen Pingping’s hand to eliminate her and her faction.

Two birds with one stone.

How ruthless.

Emperor Qing.

You truly have a heart of ice.

She had schemed all her life.

Prided herself on her cunning.

Yet in the end, she had been nothing but a pawn on someone else’s board.

The most pitiful sacrifice of all.

Her entire family—

Her father.

Her brothers.

Her kin—

Slaughtered to the last.

Only she remained.

Imprisoned in this cold palace.

A fate worse than death.

A fallen prisoner.

This was her final end.

Despair drowned her like icy seawater.

She slowly closed her eyes.

Two silent tears traced down her hollow cheeks.

The Imperial Study

Emperor Qing sat upon the dragon throne, his expression unreadable.

Hong Sixiang stood before him, bowing slightly as he delivered his report in an even tone.

“Your Majesty, we have uncovered some details regarding the incident at Taiping Villa.”

“Speak.”

The Emperor’s voice was detached.

“According to surviving guards and nearby witnesses, on that night, after the assassins breached the villa, an unnatural light appeared.”

“A spirit cat seemed to manifest, protecting the cradle.”

The Emperor’s brush paused mid-stroke.

A spirit cat?

“Afterward, several assassins were… incinerated by a strange flame.”

“The traces left at the scene were highly unusual—not resembling ordinary fire.”

Hong Sixiang’s voice remained devoid of inflection, as though describing the most mundane of matters.

The Emperor’s eyes flickered with a trace of something unreadable.

A spirit cat’s protection?

A supernatural flame that kills?

How could this be?

A newborn infant—

How could such bizarre phenomena surround him?

Unless…

Had Ye Qingmei left some contingency behind?

Or was it…

That the child himself was not ordinary?

Shock.

Disbelief.

This was beyond reason.

The Emperor’s fingers tapped absently against the desk.

That child—his son—seemed to carry an air of mystery from the moment of his birth.

This was no simple matter.

“Where is the child now?”

The Emperor’s voice deepened.

“Your Majesty, the Princess Royal has taken him from Taiping Villa.”

Li Yunrui?

The Emperor’s brow furrowed slightly.

That madwoman.

What was she planning?

He exhaled softly, rubbing his temples.

Ye Qingmei’s two children—

One had fallen into the hands of that scheming Princess.

The other had been secretly smuggled out of the capital by Fan Jian.

Nowhere to be found.

Fan Jian… ever loyal.

But what would become of these two children in the future?

The Emperor’s gaze drifted to the window.

The skies above the capital seemed clearer after the bloodshed.

No matter.

Ye Qingmei was dead.

The woman who had made him wary, who had posed a threat—was finally gone.

The boulder weighing on his heart had at last been lifted.

From now on, the Qing Kingdom would be his to rule absolutely.

No more restraints.

No more challenges to his authority.

“Prepare the carriage. I return to the palace.”

His voice regained its imperial command.

Hong Sixiang bowed in acknowledgment.

Alone in the study, the Emperor rose and walked to the window.

He looked down upon the capital—freshly scoured by storm.

His eyes held bottomless hunger for control.

Days Later – Taiping Villa

The villa was no longer forbidden ground.

Yet it stood more desolate than ever.

Amidst the rubble and overgrown weeds, the faint stench of blood and char still lingered.

Deep within the ruins, a solitary new grave stood—

Unmarked.

Just a small mound of earth.

Before it stood a woman in white, cradling an infant in her arms.

Princess Li Yunrui.

She gazed down at the baby in her arms.

The child stared back with wide, curious eyes—taking in the world.

Taking in her.

“Changsheng, look.”

Li Yunrui’s voice held a strange tenderness.

“This is where your mother rests.”

She knelt by the grave, her fingers brushing the fresh earth.

“Her name was Ye Qingmei.”

“A remarkable woman… and an eyesore.”

Her expression was complex—

Hatred.

Jealousy.

And something else—indefinable, wistful.

Li Changsheng listened quietly, sensing the madness and obsession radiating from her.

“But she’s dead now.”

Li Yunrui let out a soft laugh, laced with satisfaction.

“From now on, you’re my child.”

She nuzzled the baby’s cheek with her own.

“You’ll call me… Mother.”

Li Changsheng: “…”

Mother?

This lunatic wants to be my mom now?

Internally, he scoffed.

Externally, he could only babble—as infants do.

Li Yunrui seemed pleased by his “response.”

She stood, adjusting her hold on him.

“Come, Mother will take you away from this wretched place.”

As she turned to leave, a cold voice cut through the air.

“Princess Royal. Stay where you are.”

She froze.

Slowly, she turned.

A man in black robes sat in a wheelchair not far away, watching her silently.

Chen Pingping.

Behind him stood several Black Riders, their expressions deadly.

The air froze.

“Director Chen,” Li Yunrui’s fleeting warmth vanished, replaced by icy wariness. “To what do I owe this… interruption?”

Chen Pingping’s gaze locked onto the infant in her arms.

Something unreadable flickered in his eyes.

“Your Highness.”

His voice was quiet, yet brooked no argument.

“Hand over Ye Qingmei’s child.”

…