Rising Phoenix-Chapter 224
Screams and scrambling, spluttered cries and coughed pleas. Tears and gasps and desperate struggle.
She never moved. She never blinked. She watched silently until the very end.
After a quarter of an hour, only silence remained.
The second tray was gently set at her feet.
“Madam, take the Scattering Kung Fu Pill and dress.” The Golden Feather Guard said quietly. “His Majesty awaits in the Ning An Palace.”
Madam Feng quietly stood and turned, walking over to where Feng Hao lay.
The spoiled, lawless, domineering child that she had pampered and indulged, never to utter another sound on this earthly plane.
Madam Feng fell to her knees on the cold, hard iron floor and hugged her child one last time.
She gently wiped Feng Hao’s cooling face, carefully cleaning away the mud and dirt.
Feng Hao’s ruddy face was no more, paling and blue. Wind swept through the empty halls of the cold prison, deep and mournful whispers in the dark.
And then Feng Hao opened his eyes, gasping shallowly.
He stared at his unfamiliar mother as if looking at someone from a great distance, his quiet voice mournful as he struggled for Madam Feng’s hand.
His voice was a wisp, like a thin thread of spider silk swaying in the cold winter wind.
“Mom… it hurts…”
His hand reached powerlessly for his mother, hoping that her hands could rub away the belly rotting and intestine bursting pain raging within him, hoping for those comforting hands that had held him so many times before.
But his weak hands had barely brushed against Madam Feng’s fingers when his strings were cut and he fell limp, silent once more.
He lay, his eyes staring blankly, the brightness in his gaze dead.
One could barely hear the trembling rattle of his dying lungs, fleeing his body in a weeping gasp as if to wander and roam the lamenting dark.
In pain, he had cried for comfort and a caring hand, never willing to face the truth of his ending life.
He wanted to bring that warmth with him, just as his mother had always given his everything in his short life.
His willful, selfish, indulgent life for which fate had long since arranged a miserable end.
Madam Feng’s hand stood frozen in the air.
She stared into those gaping eyes, not able to reach up to close them.
Son… look at me. Never look away.
Since I adopted you, I swore that in your short life, I would only let you feel pain once… just this once.
For this one sacrifice, I would use sixteen years of indulgence, though I know I could not repay you. Nothing is more important than life.
Hao er.
See me.
I am the most heartless mother under the heavens, the most worthless of family, the coldest of women, waiting sixteen years to send you to death.
The finger of sunlight on the wall shifted a degree to the side.
She swallowed the Kung Fu Scattering Pill and dressed.
She no longer looked at Feng Hao, never glancing at his body. The two Golden Feather Guards wrapped the corpse in yellow silk and carried it away — the Emperor would need to see the body himself.
As the Golden Feather Guards hastened away, Madam Feng calmly exited the cell and climbed the stairs. When she walked out into the open air, everyone’s eyes gleamed.
Like Red Maple drooping in snow or vast green waves frozen in ice, a lament hung over the woman’s ink black brows, a great sorrow that seemed to push back even the bright sun.
The lamenting general, her beauty cutting.
Madam Feng faced down the road, her spine straight as she approached Ning An[1] Palace.
Her long dress seemed to trail behind her like a pure white feather brushing the pure, reflects white marble ground.
Wind flowed through her hair, revealing the snowy white strands underneath the dark cover. Shocked Golden Feather Guards exchanged glances as they shadowed her.
When Madam Feng had entered prison, her hair had been completely black, but now as she left, the dark had turned white?
She strode forth, her chin high, calmly passing the verandas and gardens and chiseled paths as she entered the palace… her shoulders thin but her back straight.
No one could see her face, and no one could see the dim smile on the corner of her lips.
Zhiwei, are you already safe and protected?
Or perhaps you never ran. With your spirit, you may already be on the way back to Dijing, but South Sea and Dijing are so far apart. When you arrive, the dust will have already settled.
You can come back. Mother has prepared the road ahead, and in your life, you will never have to face this crisis.
Many years ago, the one I loved told me that whatever I do, do it well, beginning to end.
Zhiwei.
I hope…
Gorgeous halls; layers of magnificence.
The long train swept past carved railings and inlayed jade, turning down sunlit walks into deep, dark palace rooms.
A figure in the darkness stood up somewhat hurriedly.
Madam Feng stopped, her head held high despite the calm, sorrowful hint of a smile on her lips.
To the Tian Shen Emperor, that smile was a flower blossoming on a craggy cliff, a heart rending softness blooming in hardship.
“Mingying…” He called out softly, almost in a daze as he reached out a hand.
Madam Feng stared straight at him, not bowing her smile as she stepped forward.
The Tian Shen Emperor took her hands, carefully turning over her paled fingers, thin and callused and marred with the passing of time. He felt at the calluses from the swords wielded in past wars and the wear of the drudgery over the past decade.
A complicated tenderness and pity filled him as he clutched her tightly, words pouring out of his mouth: “Mingying, you are a victim in a great scam, and you have rendered great merit to the Dynasty. I cannot allow your death, but on this matter of high treason, I must give an account. There is a well concealed, empty palace in the Imperial Harem close to the Hao Yun Residence where I handle official business… You must live here now, and you cannot reveal yourself to the public.”
Madam Feng lowered her eyes, obediently accepting his arrangement, hiding the sneer on her lips.
This is a secret Imperial matter without witness. To whom would he give an account of the condemned and the spared?
[1] 宁安,Peaceful/Safe.
