In the end, Consort Liang brought her demise upon herself. After swallowing three venomous Gu worms, she suddenly died.

Under the effects of the three venomous Gu worms, her death was particularly horrifying.

However, compared to Consort Liang, the ministers in the court were more concerned about the emperor’s health.

For half a month, the emperor remained in a coma. His body, eroded by the Gu worms, was even unable to support him in rising normally.

The court was suspended for half a month, and the atmosphere in the palace grew increasingly somber.

In such circumstances, certain matters inevitably had to be brought up.

The emperor’s health was deteriorating, and with no one in control of the court, things could still hold up for a short time, but if it continued for long, it would likely cause a change in the kingdom.

Although there was Ministers sitting in a powerful position, with his control over the military, no one dared to harbor any ill intentions, yet as long as the dragon throne remained empty, the ministers below could never feel truly secure.

After being treated by several imperial physicians, the emperor’s health had slowly improved, but it was clear that a full recovery was impossible.

In such a situation, the issue of selecting a crown prince became urgent.

As for who to choose…

If it were in the past, perhaps this matter would have sparked some controversy.

But after everything that had happened, there were only four adult princes in the court. After the death of the eldest prince, he was demoted to commoner status.

Not long after, his only heir also passed away.

The second prince, Prince Jingkang, whose mother was involved in using Gu worms to control the emperor and attempt to meddle in military affairs, was detained in the Ministry of Justice after Consort Liang’s execution.

For more than half a month, there had been no news from him.

The Ministry of Justice had been busy, and the face of Minister Yan Wei grew darker by the day. From these subtle details, it could almost be concluded that Prince Jingkang was not unrelated to the Gu poison matter.

Even if he truly had nothing to do with these matters, with such a mother who had committed grave crimes, he could never become the crown prince.

The third prince, Prince Weiyang, had been harmed by a treacherous person and could not have children for life.

This was a significant matter for any commoner, let alone a future ruler of the country.

A prince who could not have heirs could never be the crown prince, especially when there were other princes capable of inheriting the throne.

Among the four princes, one had died, one had been discarded, and one was imprisoned.

Thus, the crown prince position was undoubtedly to be taken by Prince Xiao Jin of Yong’an.

Prince Xiao Jin was the legitimate son of the empress, and after the death of the eldest prince, he became the strongest contender for the throne. Moreover, the Duke of the State and the empress were not as reckless in their actions as the previous consorts.

The empress was known for her virtuous reputation, and the Duke of the State was a powerful minister in the court.

Prince Xiao Jin’s character was also not as flawed as the other princes.

Once the rumors of selecting a crown prince spread, the entire Duke of the State’s household, including the empress, and even the consort and concubines who had already been chosen for Prince Xiao Jin, acted with great caution.

None of them made a single misstep, and they were especially mindful of their words and actions.

Because a young servant in the Duke’s household had mistakenly called Prince Xiao Jin the crown prince, he was immediately dealt with.

The Duke of the State’s wife also reprimanded the servants, instructing them not to speak carelessly or act inappropriately.

The more careful the Duke of the State’s household became, the more it made people believe that Prince Xiao Jin was indeed the rightful heir.

As July arrived, the weather gradually became hot.

The emperor had been recovering for a month, but could still only handle the most basic state affairs. The ministers in the court could no longer sit still.

Among the emperor’s four sons, only Prince Xiao Jin met the requirements to be crowned the crown prince.

So, in the eyes of many, the selection of the crown prince was hardly up for debate.

However, unexpectedly, when the emperor finally managed to rise and attend the morning court, only a few ministers raised the issue of the crown prince, and most of them were not major officials.

A large portion were from prominent families who were certain that Prince Xiao Jin would ascend the throne, and they were trying to earn some credit at this time.

Figures like Wang Jinzhī, Lü Gè Lǎo, and the other cabinet ministers and scholars who held significant influence in the court, nearly all remained silent.

Besides, the Duke of the State would not speak out to avoid suspicion.

The loyal and valiant Duke of Zhongyong, Lu Zhenguo, and others with great military achievements, either weren’t in the capital or, when questioned, simply responded with a memorial saying: “The minister does not know.”

The morning court lasted only a short time, and the session was adjourned early due to the emperor’s weak health. As they left the Taihe Hall, Wang Jinzhī’s expression was particularly vivid.

“Each one of them just stopped short of saying this has nothing to do with me,” Wang Jinzhī said with a bitter laugh. “This is about selecting a crown prince, the foundation of the nation. Look at their attitude!”

Lu Ge looked at him coldly. “You seem to have plenty of attitude. Why didn’t you make a statement in court?”

Wang Jinzhī was momentarily speechless.

After a while, he replied, “This isn’t entirely my fault. Don’t you have thoughts on this matter?”

If it were in the past, it would be one thing. At least Prince Yong’an was much better than the other tyrannical and immoral ones.

But now, knowing that there were better choices, he couldn’t bring himself to support Prince Yong’an.

Moreover…

Wang Jinzhī looked up at the procession of officials and sighed.

There was no trace of a certain red-clad figure among the morning courtiers.

Wen Yuesheng, who had entered the Tian Ci Temple for meditation, had not been seen for several days.

Wang Jinzhī watched, feeling inexplicably uncomfortable.

After a moment’s hesitation, he couldn’t hold back. “The empire of Da Hui was defended by the princess, and the iron cavalry of Hao Zhou was driven away by her. Even the emperor’s injury, it was the princess who uncovered the treachery.”

“Some people worked tirelessly for Da Hui, guarding the battlefield, almost deserving of the highest recognition,” he paused before continuing, “While others never set foot on the battlefield, living in luxury, and still get to enjoy the benefits.”

“If they really ascend to the throne, they will sit high and command others to guard the borders.”

As he spoke, his face grew darker, and he muttered, “Sometimes, the heavens really aren’t fair.”

Lu Ge, rarely speechless, glanced up at the sky.

It was already mid-July, the hottest time of the year, yet the weather these days felt especially oppressive. It wasn’t the usual clear summer sky, and even the blue sky seemed to be missing.

On days that were unbearably hot and humid, with scorching heat and rain that refused to fall despite the stifling air, the weight pressed heavily on one’s heart, making it impossible to shake off the discomfort.

Along with them were several other cabinet officials, all of whom were from the faction of the “pure stream” (meaning moralists). Wu, who stood next to the official Lu, after hearing the words, said in a low voice: “Even so, the one who will eventually ascend to the throne is bound to be Prince Yong’an.”

“Bloodline succession, with men in power—this has been the way for thousands of years. The princess may indeed be talented, but ultimately, she is just a woman.” Wu said, then lifted his gaze to meet Wang Jinzhī’s. “Being a woman means that she cannot surpass the legitimate son of the queen to become the heir to the throne.”

“Otherwise, it would go against the moral standards of the past thousand years.”

Wang Jinzhī’s eyes darkened as he heard this and fell silent.

Rationally speaking, this was true.

Even now, when the emperor had no male heirs, it would still be difficult for Wen Yuesheng to become the heir.

Moreover, standing in front of her was Xiao Jin, the one most qualified to be the heir.

He was the legitimate son of the queen, from a royal and noble lineage, with excellent character.

Even the officials accompanying them couldn’t find a single fault in him.

So, was the world that Wen Yuesheng personally guarded going to be handed over to someone else in the end?

On this oppressive day, after days of accumulating heat, a torrential downpour finally fell in the afternoon, soaking the entire capital city.

The heavy rain poured down, leaving the streets empty, with only the sound of rain filling the air.

The endless rain was even more frustrating than the constant cicada chirping of summer.

In the high pavilion of Tianci Temple, the rain gradually ceased, and after the heat was relieved, a slight coolness remained.

Wen Yuesheng stood in the wind, her dark robe fluttering in the cool breeze, the rain mingling with the wind and lifting the corners of her robe.

She lowered her gaze, watching the pilgrims walking below, some holding umbrellas, others hurriedly running to avoid the rain, her eyes devoid of emotion.

Yan Ling stood behind her and said in a soft voice, “… In the Hanlin Academy, the imperial edict for the appointment of the crown prince has already been drafted.”

Wen Yuesheng remained silent.

The capital city, after the rain, was unusually quiet.

From the high pavilion, one could see a few street vendors and some pilgrims emerging from the temple, stopping in front of the vendors.

Such a scene felt vastly different from the endless deserts at the borders.

Simply looking at this, it seemed as if the country was thriving, with the people living in peace.

Wen Yuesheng raised her eyes, retracting her gaze.

She looked into the distance, her voice cold and distant as she said, “When the world is at peace, when everything can be restored, there will be no need for a weapon that only knows how to kill.”

In her past life, it had been like this.

After the zombies were completely eradicated, as the only surviving test subject, she was no longer needed.

Not only was she no longer needed, but she was also deeply feared by others.

In the last three years of the apocalypse, wherever she went, dozens of people followed her.

On the surface, these people were sent by the alliance government to take care of her daily life.

In reality, everyone knew their true purpose: to watch over her.

With the zombies gone, she, a weapon with no emotions, had instead become an unstable element in a peaceful era.

They feared that she might lose control, so whenever she stepped out of her residence, countless people would follow her.

After a few years of such peaceful days, some people, still haunted by nightmares, would recall the days when the zombies surrounded the city.

They feared that nightmare would resurface.

So, even though they feared her, they had no choice but to keep her close.

Because if the zombies ever returned, only someone like her—an inhuman test subject—could stand against them.

They needed her, but they didn’t want her to appear too much. They didn’t want her to disturb the lives of ordinary people, and they only hoped she would appear when needed.

A killing machine was still just a tool.

In times of peace, such a powerful tool was unwelcome.

Yan Ling’s gaze darkened as he lifted his eyes to look at her.

All he saw was her emotionless profile.

He heard her calm voice: “An unwelcome tool’s final fate is to be frozen or buried.”

“It will only be brought back when danger reappears.”