"Yan Yun humbly offers her modest performance."
The young woman rose with effortless grace, stepping onto the golden-threaded carpet at the center. With poised elegance, she faced Yan Hongtian, yet did not begin her dance. Instead—she gently tugged at her sash.
Zhuo Qing was taken aback. Was this princess truly so audacious? In full view of the entire court, she began to disrobe... Could it be a strip dance? If it was, she was admittedly intrigued, her eyes fixed with anticipation on the beauty slowly undoing her belt on the gilded carpet.
As her fingers moved, her splendid outer robe slipped silently to the ground, revealing a vivid crimson dress of translucent silk. The gauzy fabric floated like mist, accentuating the flawless curves of her figure. Unfazed, the woman strode to the very center of the hall. Her clear voice, tinged with a teasing smile, rang out:
"Musicians, play a ceremonial piece. Only the sound of bells and drums is needed—the rest may remain silent."
She offered a graceful bow to Yan Hongtian, then drew from her sleeve a brilliant red silk ribbon, nearly eight or nine meters long—yet as thin as gossamer. Zhuo Qing tilted her head curiously. The thinner the ribbon, the harder it was to control. Could someone so delicately built truly manage such a feat?
As she pondered, the musicians struck the first thunderous beat. The woman leapt lightly, and the ribbon in her hand seemed to come alive, soaring through the air in perfect harmony with the rhythm. Her eyes sparkled with feline charm, casting fleeting glances at Yan Hongtian. Her slender waist swayed like a serpent's, her supple body coiling and uncoiling as the ribbon fluttered with the drumbeats.
With every leap and spin, she hit the rhythm with unerring precision. Accompanied by nothing but bells and drums, her performance was not monotonous—it was riveting. Gasps of wonder rippled through the hall. Zhuo Qing had to admit, she was dazzled. This woman was a true masterpiece of allure.
She fused sensuality and strength with startling finesse. Each chime of the bell seemed to send the ribbon curling around one's heart—softly, ticklishly. It wasn't the raw provocation of a strip dance; it was something far more refined and tantalizing. Even Zhuo Qing felt her breath quicken.
She glanced at Lou Xiyan, but could only see the slender silhouette of his back—his expression unreadable. Across from him, Su Ling's icy face remained impassive, his gaze fixed on the wine in his hand as if it were lovelier than any woman.
High above, Yan Hongtian was watching intently, but in his eyes was merely a predator's idle amusement. Of course. A man like him would never lack for beautiful gifts. What a shame, Zhuo Qing sighed silently—what a waste of such a stunning woman.
Then, just as the final beat fell, the dancer suddenly collapsed with a dull thud.
The grand hall fell into stunned silence as every eye turned to the figure crumpled on the floor.
Something was wrong. Her movements just now had been flawless. This ending was too crude, too unnatural.
Zhuo Qing straightened, eyes narrowing as she watched the woman closely. Time passed. The woman remained motionless. A quiet murmur spread among the officials.
Xu Yanyun did not stir.
Finally, Xu Xunsi could no longer bear it. He rose and hurried forward, calling softly, "Seventh Sister?"
No response.
He gently lifted her—she lay limp in his arms. His brow furrowed, and he lightly patted her cheek. Just as he opened his mouth to speak again, Xu Yanyun's body began to convulse. Her limbs grew stiff, her face shifted from flushed red to a deathly purple-blue, and her breathing turned ragged.
Xu Xunsi panicked. "Seventh Sister—what's happening to you?!"
She could not reply. Her eyes flew wide open, the charm in her gaze vanishing, replaced by bloodshot terror. Her fingers clutched desperately at her throat, her legs kicking reflexively.
Zhuo Qing's heart clenched. Could she have had some latent illness? No... this didn't look like a medical condition—it looked like...
Poison.
"Seventh Sister!"
And then, she moved no more. Her eyes stared unblinking ahead, frozen in death.
It had all happened too quickly. No one in the hall could react in time.
"Imperial physicians! See to the Seventh Princess!" Yan Hongtian's voice rang out, cold and commanding. His face betrayed no emotion.
"Yes, Your Majesty!"
Two physicians rushed forward and checked her pulse. Their calm expressions quickly darkened. One whispered gravely to the other, who then took a turn examining her. At last, the two exchanged a glance, hesitating to speak.
Seeing their faces, Xu Xunsi's heart sank. "What is it?!"
"The Seventh Princess..." one stammered, cold sweat dripping down his face.
"Speak!" Yan Hongtian barked.
The two physicians fell to their knees, trembling. "She has... already passed away."
An uproar exploded through the hall.
"Outrageous!" Yan Hongtian hurled his wine cup to the floor. Silence fell like a guillotine.
Still cradling the princess, Xu Xunsi stared at the physicians in disbelief. "That's impossible. She has trained in dance since childhood. Her health has always been excellent. How could she suddenly die?!"
The physicians dared not lift their heads. After a long pause, one of them replied with a tremble: "The Seventh Princess... perished from an extremely potent toxin."
Poisoned?
Gasps filled the air, yet no one dared utter a word. A princess, poisoned to death in the heart of the royal palace—this was no ordinary matter.
Xu Xunsi turned to Yan Hongtian with a conflicted expression. "That is... even more implausible."
A flicker of cold fury passed through Yan Hongtian's eyes. "What kind of poison was it?"
"This..."
His gaze turned frigid as it fell on the cowering physicians. "Enough stammering. Speak."
Useless fools. Was his great nation to be humiliated before foreign eyes?
The two looked at each other, but dared not utter another word. They bowed even lower, sweat dripping like rain. This poison... they dared not name it.
Lou Xiyan and Su Ling exchanged glances, then both turned away, choosing to observe in silence.
At that moment, Dan Yulan—the Head of the Ministry of Justice—stepped forward, approaching the fallen princess.
The court physicians quailed, the officials held their tongues, and Yan Hongtian looked about ready to erupt. But just then, Dan Yulan's voice rang out—clear and calm:
"Before her death, the princess suffered convulsions, clenched jaws, labored breathing, and cyanosis. Afterward, her eyes protruded and her limbs stiffened. All signs point to death by snake venom. And one venom alone can act with such deadly speed—Chi Huan Silkworm."
Poison, indeed.
Zhuo Qing, having observed the symptoms, had reached the same conclusion. Yet she found one point troubling: most venoms did not act so swiftly. Could it be she had already been poisoned before her performance? But she had shown no signs at all during the dance.
Zhuo Qing fell deep into thought.
But among the officials, a new wave of murmurs broke out at the mention of Chi Huan Silkworm.
Zhuo Qing narrowed her eyes.
Chi Huan Silkworm... what manner of deadly toxin was that?