Volume One, Chapter 20: Everything Became Their Joke

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Within the imperial garden, the air was thick with the scent of blooming flowers. Noble ladies, adorned in their finest attire, gathered to recite poetry and perform music, the banquet alive with merriment. Yet, in a secluded corner by the lake, a very different scene unfolded.

Shen Lingfeng sat quietly in his wheelchair, his legs stiff and motionless at his side.

His gaze rested upon the tranquil surface of the lake, but beneath the calm eyes swirled unfathomable emotions, as if the still water merely masked the raging currents beneath.

Lowering his eyes to his limbs, he saw the rigidity and helplessness—the legs like cold, lifeless stones.

His knuckles whitened as he gripped the armrest, the doctor’s thunderous diagnosis echoing relentlessly in his mind: "The Third Prince’s injury is beyond cure; he is destined never to stand again."

“A prince who cannot stand—what value does he hold?” he muttered to himself, a bitter, mocking smile twitching at the corner of his mouth.

His eyelids fell, his gaze settling on the sword at his waist. His fingers trembled slightly. That blade had once been a symbol of his valor on the battlefield, but now it was a mark of his disgrace.

Slowly, he drew the sword. The blade gleamed coldly in the sunset’s glow, reflecting in his somber eyes. He lifted his head to the lake, a storm of suppressed fury and helplessness swelling in his chest, as though a decision had been irrevocably made.

A slender figure appeared quietly beside a willow tree in the garden’s remote corner. Lin Chuyao gently pushed aside a willow leaf, her eyes involuntarily drawn to the solitary figure by the lake.

She had not intended to intrude; the garden’s lively festivities felt suffocating, and as she wandered to the lakeside for solace, she unexpectedly saw Shen Lingfeng.

Her heart clenched sharply upon seeing the sword in his hand. She stepped forward, her clear voice ringing softly by the quiet lake: “Your Highness, do you intend to throw the sword into the lake, or... throw yourself in?”

Her tone was light, tinged with teasing, yet her eyes pierced through his cold exterior, seeing the struggle within.

Shen Lingfeng froze, the sword halting mid-air. He looked up to see a young woman in a pale green dress standing beneath the willow, her brows curved in a smile that held a quiet certainty, as if she saw through everything.

“Who are you?” His voice was low, laced with caution.

Unfazed by his coldness, she lifted her skirt slightly and took a step closer, her voice lively: “I am Lin Chuyao, a commoner. Your Highness looks as if you are about to do something drastic.”

Shen Lingfeng’s eyes darkened, his tone sharper: “Miss Lin, this is none of your concern.”

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But Lin Chuyao did not retreat. Instead, she fixed her gaze on the sword in his hand, narrowing her eyes slightly, her voice growing earnest: “Your Highness holds the sword so tightly—is it because you cannot bear to let it go, or because you cannot bear to leave this world?”

Shen Lingfeng’s eyes narrowed like blades. “Miss Lin, are you preaching to me?”

“Not at all,” Lin Chuyao shook her head calmly. “I just think that if you were truly willing to let go, the sword would have long since been cast into the lake. Yet you clutch it so tightly, it’s clear you’re not ready.”

“Is that so?” Shen Lingfeng retorted coldly, twisting the sword so its sharp point aimed at his own heart. “Miss Lin, perhaps you should see for yourself if I am ready.”

Lin Chuyao’s expression changed abruptly. She stumbled forward and, without hesitation, thrust out her hand to stop the blade.

“You—” Shen Lingfeng’s eyes widened in shock, never expecting such impulsiveness. The sword was seized in her grasp, blood slowly dripping along the blade.

Lin Chuyao gasped, a bead of cold sweat forming on her brow. Yet she gritted her teeth and held on tightly, her voice fierce: “Your Highness, if you are determined to do this, then kill me along with you!”

“Let go!” Shen Lingfeng commanded sharply, attempting to withdraw the sword.

“If you don’t give up, I won’t either!” Lin Chuyao looked up fiercely, her gaze blazing with a hint of desperation.

Shen Lingfeng was stunned; his grip loosened slightly. Looking at this girl—her fingers trembling with pain yet refusing to yield—his heart felt as if it had been struck hard.

“Miss Lin, why do you do this?” His voice was hoarse, his eyes complex.

Lin Chuyao took a deep breath, her gaze clear and resolute: “Because I cannot bear to watch someone give up on life before my eyes. My mother used to comfort my brother every day, fearing he might one day lose hope.”

“Your Highness, you are a prince, bearing responsibilities others cannot fathom. Should you choose to end your life today, it would not only be your failure but my disgrace.”

She paused, her tone growing stronger: “Live, Your Highness! Only by living can you silence those who look down on you! If you die, everything becomes their mockery!”

Shen Lingfeng’s pupils constricted sharply. He dropped the sword with a clear clang onto the ground.

Lin Chuyao exhaled deeply, slowly releasing the blade. Her sleeve was stained red with her own blood, yet she seemed unfazed, whispering: “My mother often told my brother, no matter what hardships you face, never give up on yourself.”

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“Your Highness, please do not give up, alright?”

Shen Lingfeng said nothing, simply gazing quietly at her. After a long moment, he spoke softly, his voice low: “Miss Lin, you are bold. Do you take me for a brother to counsel me so?”

Lin Chuyao met his eyes, clear as water, and smiled brightly: “You’re much easier to persuade than my brother!”

Consort Chen’s fingers trembled slightly around her teacup as she listened. She drew in a deep breath, her gaze filled with shock and complexity, as if unable to believe what she had just heard.

“Lingfeng, you actually... had such thoughts?” Her voice was hoarse, struggling to contain her emotions.

Shen Lingfeng lowered his eyes, his tone calm: “At that time, I thought about ending it all every day because I saw no hope.”

“If she had stepped back, I would have truly plunged the sword in. It was she who made me understand that even in the darkest pain, one must try once more.”

Such a resilient and kind woman had borne five years of hardship. If not for him knowing of her prior engagement and deliberately avoiding news of her, how could he have borne to see her reduced to this state?

Consort Chen’s eyes reddened slightly as she fought back tears, her voice growing softer: “Mother never realized... you faced all this alone every day, and I did nothing.”

“Such a woman is truly special. She saved your life and saved mine. How could I oppose her? But Lingfeng, since you have chosen her, you must protect her fully.”

Shen Lingfeng nodded, his gaze resolute: “Mother, rest assured. The one I choose, I will protect for life.”

“Just one thing for father to approve of, and he will surely agree!”

“What is it?”