Buried beneath layers of stone and imperial secrets, Water prison was the oldest part of the palace.

Few entered here but none left.

The guards stopped before the last cell.

"This one," the senior guard whispered, unwilling to meet Wu Yingyue's eyes. "We... we kept him alive."

He said as he stepped to open the gate.

The smell hit first—dampness, blood, sweat.

Inside, chained to the wall in ankle-deep water, slumped the figure he had come for.

Zhou Wangshu.

Unconscious. Barely recognizable.

It had only been half a day, and they had already left him half-dead.

His inner white robes had long since turned grey, soaked and torn.

He was chained, wrists high above his head, head bowed but not collapsed. His long hair was matted with blood, there were whip marks slashed across his chest and back, some scabbed, some raw. His face was pale, and lips were cracked, streaked with blood, as if he'd bitten down just to keep silent.

Wu Yingyue stood still for a moment.

"Drag him out," he said, voice cold.

The guards hesitated but one look from Guang Ze sent them scrambling into motion. They stepped into the cell, unshackled Zhou Wangshu's bloody wrists, and dragged his limp body out.

The Crown Prince dismissed everyone with a single glance, and they retreated in silence, heads lowered.

Wu Yingyue's expression didn't change, but his fingers curled tightly at his sides. He walked to the side and took the nearby bucket of water in sight, filthy and half-frozen and poured it over Zhou Wangshu's head.

Zhou Wangshu jerked, a strangled breath tearing out of him. He coughed harshly, limbs twitching, body folding into itself like a cornered beast.

Wu Yingyue crouched slowly before him, robes gathering the filth of the stone floor, but he didn't care.

He reached out and lifted Zhou Wangshu's chin with the tip of his finger.

"Still alive?" he said softly, almost mockingly.

Zhou Wangshu's eyelids fluttered.

He looked into his eyes but didn't utter a word.

"What? Cat got your tongue! Weren't you jumping around, shouting for justice, blaming me for ruining your pure self?" His smile didn't reach his eyes. "Look at you now. Filthy."

He let Zhou Wangshu's face drop.

"The noble Duke, rotting in his own silence. How poetic."

Wu Yingyue snorted, seeing his lifeless expression not feeling an ounce of pity.

'Everything was going with the plan, but this idiot had to be as unpredictable as always.'

Just as he thought Zhou Wangshu would remain silent, his lips parted as he spoke in a hoarse voice, "The prison is unlucky, why would His Royal Highness the Crown Prince condescend to grant his grace here?"

Wu Yingyue's eyes narrowed.

Still arrogant. Still provoking him, even in chains.

"Come to finish what you started?" Zhou Wangshu continued, almost amused. "Or just here to see if the rumors are true—that the Duke of Zhou has finally fallen from his high horse?"

Wu Yingyue sneered and shoved him back against the stones. "Half-dead and still have the strength to run your mouth. Seems they didn't beat you hard enough."

Zhou Wangshu let out a low, dry laugh that quickly turned into a cough, blood flecking his lips. "If that's an order, Your Highness, I'm sure they'll oblige."

A heavy silence settled. Neither of them moved.

"You... A-Ying,"

Wu Yingyue turned to face him, startled by the name.

"More than 300 people were in my grandmother's palace on that day. All turned into dead souls overnight. Your Highness, do you still remember? Some of them stood guard day and night when you were bedridden as a child. Some used to visit Furongzhai to buy snacks just to make you smile when you came by... and some were only three or four years old."

His blood-stained eyes met Wu Yingyue's, and they no longer held pain, only seething malice, as though he wished he could devour the once precious person in front of him.

"In the end, Your Highness was only pretending to be ill and lied a bit," Zhou Wangshu whispered bitterly. "And the entire palace was wiped out."

Wu Yingyue's fingers twitched at his side.

His gaze dropped to Zhou Wangshu's bloodied form, the way he still looked at him as if he were the monster.

He stepped closer. For a long moment, he didn't say anything.

"The victory or defeat is already decided. The duke should know that in the court, there is no such thing as mercy in the struggle for power." Wu Yingyue pursed his lips slightly. "Hand over the Tiger Tally, and I will make sure you walk out of this prison alive. Otherwise..."

He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't have to.

Zhou Wangshu gave a short, bitter laugh. "Wishful thinking."

Wu Yingyue's eyes darkened. He took a single step back. Then he gave a cold smile.

"That depends on how long the duke can endure."

Without another word, he turned and walked away, his figure disappearing into the shadows of the corridor.

But as soon as W yingyue turned his head, the indifference in his eyes instantly turned into deep heartache.

But there was nothing he could do.

Not now.

Coming here had been reckless especially when he was still under emperor watch but the moment he heard Zhou Wangshu had been taken to the Water Prison, all caution had vanished.

As he stepped out of the prison, his vision swayed.

His foot faltered as a wave of dizziness crashed over him. The cold air from the corridor hit his lungs like knives, and his knees nearly buckled beneath the weight of it all.

Guang Ze was instantly at his side. "Your Highness—!"

Wu Yingyue weakly raised a hand. "I'm fine."

"You shouldn't have come here in your condition. This slave begs Your Highness to return and rest—"

Wu Yingyue waved him off, but Guang Ze lowered his voice and added, "The Emperor has already learned of your visit."

That made Wu Yingyue cold.

"...When?" 

Guang Ze hesitated, then said, "Not long ago. A little eunuch from the inner court came with the message while Your Highness was still inside. His Majesty commands you to attend him in the Imperial Study. Immediately."

Wu Yingyue closed his eyes for a breath, the cold wind biting at his face. Of course, the Emperor would find out. He had already planted too many eyes around him, knowing his strongest backer had been imprisoned, they would become more arrogant and try every method to win Emperor's favor.

"Let's not keep Father waiting."

"Your Highness knows better than to get involved in the Duke's affairs. Why go to the prison at all?" Snow fell steadily from the overcast sky. Guang Ze followed behind Wu Yingyue, holding an umbrella over his head. His voice was low, cautious. "The Emperor already harbors suspicions about Your Highness. I fear... after today, things will only become more difficult."

Wu Yingyue did not stop walking. His eyes dropped to his hands—slender fingers, elegant bones. No one would imagine how much blood had been stained on these hands.
He slowly lowered his arms and tucked his hands back into his sleeves.

"I'm the only prince left by my father," he said softly. "That alone is reason enough."

Then he added, almost to himself, "Come. It's winter... and it's snowing again. I wonder how many roofs will collapse in this storm, how many families will be forced from their homes."

The old eunuch sighed heavily. "Natural disasters bring pain to the people... and man-made ones bring ruin."

"Excessive taxes. Corruption. Extortion in every form."
Wu Yingyue's voice grew faint and brittle with bitterness. "The roots of this dynasty... have long since rotted."

He coughed softly, but deep enough to shake his chest. Guang Ze glanced at him with worry but said nothing.

The Crown Prince continued walking through the snow-covered palace, cloaked in fur, yet still appearing unbearably thin.

Meanwhile, across the palace, in the serene quiet of the Eternal Palace, time moved at its own unhurried pace.

The Empress, dressed in pale brocade, stood by the window trimming the pine branches, "This pine," she said softly, "was planted by Ming'er himself. Look how tall it's grown now."

"The ones here are more vibrant than those in the imperial gardens because Your Majesty tended to them with care. It must be a good sign." her maid replied gently.

"A good sign...Then Ming'er must be coming home soon. It's been three years... It's time."

At that moment, a eunuch approached quietly from behind. "Your Majesty... the East Palace sent word yesterday. His Highness the Crown Prince has fallen ill. Would it be—"

"There's no need," the Empress said, her voice calm, but cold, "He is the Crown Prince is the crown prince of the country. He belongs in the East Palace. There's nothing I can offer him."

The eunuch lowered his head. "Yes, Your Majesty."

"From now on, you needn't inform me of such things. Refuse them directly."

As the Empress turned to step inside, her maid quickly moved to support her.

By the window, two pots of pine stood side by side. One thrived, needles lush and scented, full of quiet life. The other was brittle, dry, stripped bare by frost. It looked ready to die.

The empress said that the one that was lush and green meant a good sign that the second prince was coming back.

The maid's eyes flickered toward the withered pot, a vague unease blooming in her chest. But she said nothing.