"Chu Ying, don't go. If you leave, how can your mother go on living? Sob, sob..."
In the darkness, a faint sound of weeping echoed by Chu Ying's ear, like the desperate crying of a cuckoo, seeming both very close and far away.
Who is speaking?
Am I not dead?
And what is this about a mother?
In his previous life, because he had no parents, Chu Ying had acted without hesitation and joined the most dangerous special forces.
Could it be...
A sudden jolt went through him. Like a drowning man finally breaking the surface of the water, his consciousness cleared instantly.
"I'm not dead?!"
Chu Ying opened his eyes abruptly. What greeted his vision was a somewhat dilapidated room that was clearly of ancient architecture.
Immediately afterward, a strong scent of traditional Chinese medicine drilled into his nostrils.
The smell acted like a catalyst, rushing straight to his head.
Chu Ying felt a roar in his ears as his mind exploded.
All sorts of memories that did not originally belong to him forced their way in, filling his head until it felt ready to burst.
"Ah! So painful..."
He suddenly clutched his head with both hands, enduring the pain while processing these memories.
As it turned out, he had actually transmigrated.
His current identity was no longer that of the modern-day Chinese special forces soldier Chu Ying, but rather Chu Ying, the First Prince of the Chu State. He was twenty years old, less than a month older than the Crown Prince.
Naturally, this Chu State was not the historical Chu State from his past life.
Instead, it belonged to another spacetime, with a political system similar to the Ming Dynasty.
However, its level of development was far more backward.
For an ordinary person, suddenly transmigrating to become a prince would undoubtedly fill them with ecstatic joy.
Yet at this moment, Chu Ying could not muster a shred of happiness.
Because he was not born of the Empress, he had been disliked in the palace since childhood.
More than a decade ago, after his maternal family was falsely accused of treason and implicated, his mother, Consort Rong, and he had been cast into the Cold Palace.
More than ten years had passed since then.
Over the years, the mother and son had suffered every conceivable torment.
Setting aside the intentional harassment from the palace's nobles, even ordinary maids and eunuchs dared to ride roughshod over them.
And recently, Chu Ying, who had previously been in relatively good health, had suddenly fallen ill. There was a strong suspicion that someone had been working behind the scenes.
If not for the modern Chu Ying transmigrating here, this First Prince of the Chu State would have been dead beyond a doubt.
To ask how anyone could feel happy in such a perilous environment would be a cruel joke.
"Chu Ying, you... you're really awake! Cough, cough..."
Just as Chu Ying was sorting through his memories, a woman rushed over and pulled him into a tight embrace.
Hot tears dripped onto his face, her voice distorted by emotion:
"My child, do you know that you've been unconscious for five days and five nights? Even the imperial physicians said..."
She choked back a sob and coughed a few times again: "Cough, cough... Fortunately, you finally pulled through. Thank heaven and earth, truly thank heaven and earth!"
Feeling the warmth on his face, Chu Ying knew that the woman before him cared for him from the bottom of her heart.
"Thank you, Mo... Mother, for your concern. Child has caused Mother to worry these past few days."
The woman before him was none other than his biological mother, Consort Rong.
When Chu Ying embraced her back, what his hands touched was a withered and frail body.
Years of life in the Cold Palace had stripped this once pampered woman of her former plumpness and radiant brilliance.
Her yellowish hair was casually twisted into a bun and secured with a wooden hairpin.
Sunken eye sockets and sallow skin gave her an air of sickly weakness.
Barely forty years old, her body was already heavy with the aura of twilight.
She was indeed ill, suffering from a chronic and stubborn affliction.
Ever since they moved into this Cold Palace a year later, the illness had clung to her like a bone-gnawing parasite, constantly torturing her.
Perhaps influenced by the memories of his predecessor, a deep sense of self-reproach and heartache welled up in Chu Ying's chest.
Truth be told, everything the woman before him had suffered was largely his fault.
It was precisely because his predecessor had been born too early, seizing the place before the Crown Prince, that she had suffered this fate.
If his predecessor had not held the status of the First Prince, or had possessed even a modicum of capability, his nominal mother would not have had to endure so many hardships.
Fortunately, he had now transmigrated.
Since he had taken over someone else's body, from now on, he would accept all the causes and consequences!
He would repay his mother and change the plight of the mother and son!
Chu Ying clenched his fists and swore inwardly.
Consort Rong did not know that her son had changed. Still immersed in joy, she released her grip, sat on the edge of the bed, and smiled:
"There's no need to worry, as long as Ying'er is fine."
Seeing Chu Ying wrinkle his nose, she glanced at the medicine pot steaming with white mist on the charcoal brazier in the corner, and smiled in explanation:
"That's the medicine Mother brewed for you. Cough, cough... Since you're awake, you might as well drink a bowl first."
As she spoke, she stood up, then suddenly pressed a hand to her forehead, her body swaying slightly.
"Mother, are you alright?!"
Horrified, Chu Ying threw off the quilt and reached out to support her.
Consort Rong waved her hand, speaking weakly: "Cough, cough, I'm fine, just a little tired... You've just recovered from a serious illness, you shouldn't get out of bed. Just sit nicely... After you drink your medicine, Mother will heat up some food for you."
Only then did Chu Ying notice several dishes placed on the table, completely devoid of any steam.
Presumably, out of extreme worry for him, she hadn't eaten for several meals in a row either.
At that very second, the softest spot in Chu Ying's heart was savagely tugged!
"Mother, heat up a bit more later."
"Alright, alright. It seems Ying'er is really starved," Consort Rong smiled.
"No, this son means to ask Mother to eat a little as well."
Consort Rong's hand holding the bowl paused abruptly as two streams of tears fell once more.
Though it was deep into winter, her heart felt warm. She bit her lip and nodded: "Don't worry, Mother will definitely eat. If Mother doesn't eat her fill, how will she have the strength to take care of Ying'er?"
"Mother need not worry. This son has grown up and will take good care of himself."
These words from Chu Ying brought a renewed, comforted smile to Consort Rong's face: "Good, good, good. Mother suddenly realizes that Ying'er has truly grown up."
In the past, having grown up in the Cold Palace and suffered endless bullying since childhood, Chu Ying had a deep-seated cowardice and inferiority etched into his bones.
Not only was he a mute who kept to himself, but he would never have spoken such ambitious words in front of Consort Rong.
Yet Consort Rong found nothing strange about it, assuming he had suddenly seen the light after a severe illness.
After all, hardship was the best catalyst for making a person mature.
Just as Consort Rong bent down to pick up the medicine pot, a loud bang shattered the silence as the door was kicked open violently from the outside.
A gust of cold wind, laden with snowflakes, surged fiercely into the room.
Consort Rong, already weak and sickly, was jolted by the blast and began to cough violently once more.
Raising their heads, the mother and son saw a palace maid with triangular eyes step arrogantly into the room.
Compared to the brand-new satin padded jacket the maid wore, Consort Rong's attire appeared infinitely more shabby.
Could even an ordinary palace maid enjoy better treatment than the mother and son?
At that moment, Chu Ying gained a much more direct understanding of his situation.
"Consort Rong, Consort Jin sent me to ask: have you finished washing the clothes yet?"
The moment the triangular-eyed maid spoke, devoid of any sense of propriety between superior and inferior, her tone was haughty and imperious:
"Don't say I didn't warn you. If you haven't finished washing them, neither of you mother and son will have an easy time today!"
***
The Consort Jin mentioned by the triangular-eyed palace maid had been Consort Rong's rival more than a decade ago.
Consort Rong had always been well-read, courteous, and kind to others, naturally not one to provoke others on her own initiative.
However, Consort Jin possessed an overwhelming jealousy.
Back then, Consort Rong was in the prime of her youth and deeply favored, making Consort Jin feel neglected—a resentment she held onto to this day.
Ever since Consort Rong and her son fell from grace, Consort Jin had found excuses every few days over the past decade or so to send her maid, Cuixiang, over to intentionally torment her.
Whenever Consort Rong failed to complete her tasks, she would face all sorts of humiliation, verbal abuse, and beatings.
Anyway, since the mother and son were trapped in the Cold Palace and unable to appeal to the Emperor, people bullied them however they pleased.
Throwing a huge pile of laundry for Consort Rong to wash in the dead of winter like this was merely one of their methods.
In the past, to keep Chu Ying from being bullied, Consort Rong would grit her teeth and finish washing, even when her fingers cracked and bled from the freezing water.
Yet over the past two days, consumed by anxiety for her son, how could Consort Rong find the mind to care about such things?
Had Chu Ying died, she wouldn't have intended to live on either.
But now that Chu Ying had woken up, the situation instantly became troublesome.
"Cuixiang girl, you see, these past two days I was entirely focused on taking care of Ying'er and forgot about this. Cough, cough, I am truly sorry..."
Consort Rong's uneasy words were met with a sharp shriek from Cuixiang:
"What did you say? Do you still think you're the Consort Rong of the past? You've already been cast into the Cold Palace, no different from a stray dog."
Pointing a finger at Chu Ying on the bed, she said imperiously: "Do you know that being able to wash clothes for Consort Jin is your honor? Instead of showing gratitude, you actually dared to slack off for the sake of a piece of trash. Do you have any shame toward Consort Jin's kind intentions?"
"Yes, yes, it was I who failed Consort Jin's good intentions. I'm sorry, I'll go wash them right now."
Years of enduring humiliation had long since numbed Consort Rong, leaving her with only the desire to smooth things over as quickly as possible.
Hesitating for a moment, she glanced toward the door and offered an ingratiating smile: "Cuixiang girl, do you think you could close the door first? Ying'er just recovered from his illness, and the thin quilt isn't warm. What if he catches another cold?"
As she spoke, she stepped forward, intending to close the door herself.
"Hold on." A hand blocked her path.
"Cuixiang girl, please show some consideration..."
Before Consort Rong could turn her head, *slap!*—caught completely off guard, she took a hard slap across the face from Cuixiang, leaving her utterly dazed.
On the bed, the veins on Chu Ying's forehead throbbed as he clenched his fists fiercely.
He could not bear to watch women being bullied!
Especially a pitiful mother who had lowered herself and begged abjectly just for her son's sake!
Showing no awareness of the taboo of a servant striking her superior, Cuixiang looked down at Consort Rong from on high and sneered coldly, "Are you out of your mind? I show consideration for you, but who shows consideration for me?
"What if closing the door blocks the air circulation and I get infected by your tuberculous son? Can you take responsibility for that?"
Pointing out toward the freezing snow outside, she snapped, "Get out there right now and wash every single piece of clothing for me! If you delay, don't blame me for being impolite!"
"I'm sorry, Cuixiang girl, don't be angry. I'll go wash them right now, right now..."
A flash of humiliation crossed the depths of Consort Rong's eyes. Holding her swollen cheek, she bit her dry lips and prepared to walk out the door.
Just as she took a step, someone grabbed her arm: "Mother, don't pay any attention to her! I'd like to see what happens if we don't wash these clothes today—will the sky really fall down?!"
"You can't do that, Ying'er, be a good boy. Let go of Mother and lie back down obediently, you shouldn't be out of bed yet..."
No matter how Consort Rong pleaded, Chu Ying refused to let go, his grip tightening instead.
Cuixiang grew furious, placing her hands on her hips and sneering derisively, "What? Trying to put on the airs of a First Prince with me? Let me tell you, this is an order from Consort Jin. Can you afford the consequences of defying her command?"
"Consort Jin? What of her command? So what if I defy it?!"
Chu Ying's voice rang clear and resolute, his gaze sharp and his entire bearing transformed, making it impossible not to feel a chill.
Cuixiang froze.
Was this still the worthless wretch who never fought back when beaten or cursed?
Yet Cuixiang's stun lasted only a moment before she felt her dignity had been insulted, driving her into an even greater rage. "Very well, you tuberculous ghost! Getting bolder by the minute, aren't you?"
Catching sight of the medicine pot on the brazier, she lunged forward and kicked it over.
"No! My son's medicine! I begged the Imperial Hospital for ages to get that..."
Consort Rong cried out as she rushed forward like a madwoman, trying to salvage what little she could of the spilled brew.
"Hah, making your son rebel—this is the price of offending me, Cuixiang!"
With a look of malicious satisfaction, Cuixiang raised her foot and stomped viciously several times over the spilled herbs.
Giving Chu Ying a provocative glare, she crushed Consort Rong's last shred of hope:
"Don't you care about your son? Don't you want to cure his illness? Well, I refuse to let you have your way! Trash like him is better off dead sooner rather than later!"
"Shut your mouth..."
Consort Rong finally snapped. They could curse her, but cursing her son was entirely crossing the line!
"You dare yell at me?!"
Furious, Cuixiang raised her foot to kick her.
Yet this time...
*Slap!*
Before Cuixiang's foot could land, Chu Ying had already charged forward in a flash, raising his hand to deliver a vicious slap.
"Ah!"
Cuixiang shrieked, clutching her cheek as she stumbled backward, staring at Chu Ying in disbelief.
"You!"
"This slap is for your insubordination!"
*Slap!*
"This slap is for your arrogance and tyranny!"
*Slap!*
"This slap is for your lack of respect!"
*Slap!*
"This slap..."
With each successive blow, Chu Ying poured almost all the strength he currently possessed into them.
Cuixiang was spun round and round, her face swelling up high on both sides while blood constantly oozed from the corners of her mouth.
"You... you useless trash, how dare you hit me? Do you have a death wish? Do you want to die?!"
Clutching her face, Cuixiang's chest heaved violently as her eyes filled with venom and shock.
"So what if I hit you?"
Though Chu Ying prided himself on never hitting women, this Cuixiang was truly hateful—a vicious shrew through and through!
As a proud man and a former Chinese soldier, could he possibly allow himself to be bullied by a wicked woman?
With a gaze as sharp as a blade, he snatched up the herb-cutting knife from the table and said murderously, "Say one more word, and see if I don't kill you!"
"You wouldn't dare!"
Cuixiang shivered in fright. The current Chu Ying gave her an unprecedented, terrifying feeling.
It seemed that if she dared to provoke him further, he really would commit murder.
"Watch and see if I dare!"
Chu Ying closed the distance, the blade pointing straight at her throat!
The invisible pressure finally shattered Cuixiang's last shred of dignity.
"Fine, fine, fine! Remember what you said today! I'm going back to report this to Consort Jin, and we'll see how you explain yourselves!"
Her courage failing her, Cuixiang spat out a harsh threat and turned to flee in panic.
Chu Ying stepped forward to shut the door, led Consort Rong back to sit on the bed, and then turned to clean up the spilled herbs across the floor.
"Ying'er, let Mother do these things. Hurry up and lie down on the bed. But..."
Consort Rong could no longer sit still, anxiety etched across her face: "What will we do when Consort Jin sends people back for revenge later?"
Isolated and helpless in the Cold Palace, facing Consort Jin's retaliation, the mother and son seemed to have no choice but to await their doom.
"Mother, rest easy. This son already has a countermeasure."
Having cleaned up the herbs, Chu Ying stood up, a flicker of ruthlessness flashing in his eyes: "They had better not come. Otherwise, this son will make sure they regret it for the rest of their lives!"
***
"Ying'er, you're not... actually planning on killing someone, are you?"
Hearing her son speak thus, Consort Rong's face instantly paled with panic. "No! Absolutely not! If you do that, aren't you just handing those people a weapon against us?"
Consort Rong was far from a novice at palace struggles.
Despite their current confinement in the Cold Palace, there were still plenty of people who wanted Chu Ying dead.
As a mother, naturally she did not want Chu Ying to take such a desperate gamble just because of a couple of provoking servants.
"Ah... This son was just trying to scare that Cuixiang. Why did you take it seriously?"
Showing a hint of awkward embarrassment, Chu Ying comforted her: "Mother, rest assured. This son is no fool; I would never do something as self-destructive as digging my own grave."
"That's good then."
Consort Rong let out a breath of relief, though her brow soon furrowed again: "Still, besides that, do you really have any other counter-strategy?"
"Mother needn't worry. Just sit quietly and wait for them to arrive."
Wang An did not spell out his plan, but his calm demeanor gave Consort Rong a measure of confidence.
Less than half an incense stick's time later, Cuixiang indeed returned with reinforcements.
This time, the group included Li Fuhai, the eunuch from Consort Jin's Directorate of Internal Affairs, alongside three burly, thick-set utility eunuchs.
Such a lineup was more than enough to deal with the sickly mother and son.
Li Fuhai possessed a sinister expression. The moment he arrived, he barked in a shrill, duck-like voice:
"The two of you have quite some nerve! Not only did you dare defy Consort Jin's orders, but you even beat her personal maid. Today, this servant must demand justice for Her Ladyship."
"Director Li, it's all a misunderstanding. Ying'er just woke up, and his mind isn't quite clear yet, which is why he acted foolishly and offended Cuixiang. Please, Director..."
Consort Rong had barely begun to plead when Chu Ying cut her off: "Mother, why waste words with them?"
Stepping forward with a straight back, he looked at Li Fuhai: "That's right. I defied the order, and I beat her. What do you want to do about it?"
"Hheh, I couldn't tell. You useless piece of trash actually managed to grow a spine."
Eyeballing Chu Ying sideways with a forced, ugly smile, Li Fuhai sneered, "That's good. When we start moving later, my men won't have to hold back."
"No, please, Director Li, I beg you..."
Terrified, Consort Rong hurried forward to plead, only to be shoved aside harshly by Li Fuhai, nearly crashing to the ground before Chu Ying managed to catch and steady her just in time.
Yet Li Fuhai showed not a shred of remorse: "Now you want to beg for your son? Too late! To dare beat someone from Consort Jin's side is pure lawlessness!"
"Since you, Consort Rong, don't know how to raise your son, this servant will help you teach him a lesson, so this good-for-nothing trash learns some manners!"