Palace Fighting Naive Concubines’ Ascent to Power
Chapter 600 Overbearing Flower

Chapter 600: Chapter 600 Overbearing Flower

"Ghosts, ghosts, ghosts, don’t look for me, none of you look for me, go find someone else, find my father if you must, he has harmed many. Ah, don’t come any closer, my family has a lot of silver, I will burn it for you, I will burn silver notes for you, just don’t come any closer..."

Smelling the stench of urine in the room, the Emperor frowned deeply. Such a wretch dared to bully his Little Concubine?

The Shadow Guard walked in, expressionless, and lifted the man abruptly, causing He Hao to scream in terror, his eyes rolling back as he nearly fainted. Fortunately, feeling the warmth of the Shadow Guard’s body and realizing it was not a ghost, he did not faint.

Once he knew it was not a ghost, He Hao immediately begged for mercy, "My lord, spare my life, spare my life, I confess everything, just don’t leave me here, I confess everything..."

The Shadow Guard ignored him, swiftly tying him up and placing him behind a screen. He kicked He Hao so he knelt with his back to the screen, then lit the lamp in the room.

The Emperor entered the room and sat down on the other side of the screen, signaling the Shadow Guard to speak.

The Shadow Guard nodded, his voice devoid of emotion, "What misdeeds did you commit in your youth, confess truthfully."

He Hao, who was begging for mercy, was stunned upon hearing this. "Ah?"

He hadn’t misheard, had he? Were they really settling accounts for misdeeds from his childhood?

The Emperor’s face showed disgust and impatience; such a wretch was simply a waste of his time.

Had it not been for knowing this man was the schoolmate of his Little Concubine, he might have been interested.

Also, knowing this man had longstanding grievances with his Little Concubine, he wanted to learn more about her and incidentally take revenge on her behalf; such a lowly fellow would never have been granted an audience otherwise.

The Shadow Guard, seeing that He Hao didn’t understand, kicked him again, repeating icily, "What misdeeds did you commit in your youth, confess truthfully."

He Hao felt extremely wronged. Couldn’t this lord speak nicely? Why keep kicking him? He was just slow to react, not that he didn’t understand.

He stuttered, "When I was a child, I was just a kid, what bad things could I possibly do, my lord? What exactly do you want to know?"

The Shadow Guard kicked him again. "Misdeeds."

The Emperor, both impatient and helpless, knew that not every Shadow Guard was Hu Miaomiao; they were not skilled in guiding a conversation.

At this moment, the most suitable person to interrogate him would be Zhang Qing; a single instruction and he would know exactly what the Emperor wanted to know, guiding the conversation accordingly.

"What?" He Hao immediately responded, then realizing that the lord was answering his inquiry about what he wanted to know.

He quickly begged for mercy again, "Don’t kick, don’t kick, I understand. Those childhood days are so long ago, I hardly remember, let me think, my lord..."

The Shadow Guard’s kicking foot paused, his expression still blank as he stared at him.

He Hao cringed, racked his brain trying to recall any childhood misdeeds, but couldn’t think of anything.

Reflecting on his recent days, living a life worse than that of a dog, sorrow welled up within him.

He had been the privileged young master of the He Family, calling the wind and summoning the rain in the town, having whatever he wanted.

Little did he know how treacherous the world could be. Betrayed by his own father, he fell into misfortune, was hunted down, led a miserable life worse than a beast, enduring hardships along the way.

He began sobbing, wailing, "My lord, I truly can’t remember. Even if I wanted to commit misdeeds as a child, I couldn’t succeed. That girl Overbearing Flower next door, she was the one who really did many bad things, even now I shudder at the thought..."

What misdeeds had he committed in his childhood? He hardly did as many as the Lian girl next door. Whenever he thought of doing something bad, she thwarted him.

Raising a chicken as a pet, he wanted to feel imposing. Yet no sooner had he gotten used to the chicken than it was scared sick by that girl with a dog, and he had no choice but to kill it.

He remembered when he first entered the academy, he hadn’t been reading long, and the teacher taught each student how to write their own name. He was young then, not aware of the wickedness in people’s hearts, and laughed at how the Overbearing Flower from the Lian Family had an ugly-sounding name, meaningless.

He thought that incident would just pass, and from time to time he would joke about it, since he was only stating the truth.

Only to find that the Overbearing Flower came to talk to him the next day, and seriously explained the meaning of her name regarding the previous day’s laughter.

So young he was, he couldn’t understand her lengthy explanations; it was just a floral name regardless.

He vividly recalled how just a moment ago, the Overbearing Flower had been reasonable, but the moment he spoke those words, the atmosphere changed immediately. A wind seemed to swirl around the Overbearing Flower, who clenched her fist and waved her hand, beating him right then and there.

He was so frail and couldn’t fight back, crying from the pain almost instantly, but the more he cried, the harder the Overbearing Flower hit him. How barbaric some people could be!

Back then, he learned for the first time that apart from the He Family, there were those more barbaric and unreasonable than him.

He went home and threw a tantrum to his mother, crying and hoping she would defend him as before.

His mother did go to the Lian Family to defend him, but the Overbearing Flower faced no repercussions. Terrifyingly fierce, he had no choice but to avoid her.

Yet, the Overbearing Flower didn’t stop there. After school, she cornered him, forcing him to laugh at her name again. He couldn’t leave without doing so, frightened; he gave in and made a joke.

To his dismay, he was beaten again on the spot, crying woefully. It was tragic.

There was no reason in it; it was the Overbearing Flower who asked him to laugh, and yet he was the one being beaten.

Ever since that incident, his nightmares began and continued until he was ten years old, during which he remained under that girl’s suppression, unable to raise his head.

Whenever he thought of doing some mischief, he was immediately disciplined by the girl, and even if he bullied someone else, it didn’t matter if she found out about it.

Even if he complained, even if the girl was scolded, it was useless; she would beat him again next time. It became his shadowy nightmare.

It wasn’t until something happened to the girl’s family and she disappeared that he was finally able to rise, letting others see his might.

After so many years, thinking back on those dark days still gives him chills. He always feared that upon waking from a dream, the Overbearing Flower would return.

He Hao cried and wailed, sharing his tragic history in a disjointed manner, hopping from one topic to another.

The Shadow Guard, expressionless, was about to kick him again, scaring him into a sudden silence.

The Emperor raised his hand to stop the Shadow Guard, his lips slowly curving up as his mood lifted slightly, "Just like that, tell me more about her."

"Overbearing Flower," such a fresh title, somewhat fitting for his Little Concubine.

Amidst his sobbing, He Hao heard a voice, pausing for a moment; there was more than one person in the room?

The Shadow Guard took the opportunity to land that kick he had restrained himself from delivering earlier.

His shin ached, and he suddenly realized it didn’t matter who asked; just tell them and be done with it. He responded, "Master, if you want to know the bad things that Overbearing Flower has done, it would take days and nights to tell them all..."

Talking about other subjects, he might not have much to say, but on the topic of the Overbearing Flower, it was like recounting treasures from his own painful history, a sad tale that would make any listener weep.