Reborn Nine Times, the Tyrant Always Wants to Imprison Me - Chapter 24

Fangru’s heart sank at his domineering threat, a chill of revulsion spreading through her chest.

She struggled to maintain surface composure, keeping her gaze lowered to avoid his eyes. Her voice betrayed no emotion, only mechanical obedience: “As His Majesty commands, this subject shall comply.”

…

Thereafter, her daily visits to the imperial study to “report her whereabouts” became a form of torment.

She would appear punctually outside the hall as if performing compulsory hard labor—bowing, speaking, every movement radiating detachment and rigidity.

Standing quietly below the throne, her eyes never voluntarily sought the figure behind the imperial desk, fixing instead on a distant void as if drawing strength to endure from it.

While Zhou Ling reviewed memorials, the hall often held only the rustling of vermilion brushstrokes on paper and her deliberately slowed breathing.

Once, when Zhou Ling rubbed his temples after prolonged frowning, his gaze inadvertently swept over her and noticed the tea by her hand had long gone cold.

His brow tightened almost imperceptibly, but he remained silent, merely gesturing to a chamberlain. Moments later, a freshly brewed Junshan Silver Needle tea at perfect temperature was quietly placed at her station.

Fangru stared at the suddenly appeared hot tea, momentarily startled before a deeper mockery flashed in her eyes.

She didn’t touch the cup, acting as if she hadn’t seen it, letting the steam dissipate untended.

Another day, a sudden gust from the window stirred her skirts and scattered some unimportant documents on the desk.

Zhou Ling’s gaze lifted from the memorials, first glancing at her thin garments before settling on the disordered papers. Without speaking, he cast a look at the chamberlain beside him. The attendant immediately understood, silently stepping forward to not only reorganize the documents but also discreetly position a rosewood screen at the draft source, shielding her from the chill.

Fangru felt the wind diminish but tensed further.

This pervasive “solicitude” felt to her like another form of surveillance and control, making her spine prickle with discomfort.

Occasionally he would inquire about the Ministry of Justice’s investigation progress, his tone flat as casual conversation.

She always responded with the most concise, objective language, unwilling to offer even one extra word. Yet when her voice grew slightly hoarse from accumulated fatigue one day, the imperial study “coincidentally” prepared a pot of warm pear and rock sugar soup the next day, silently presented to her by a chamberlain.

“His Majesty bestowed this concerned for your fatigue, young mistress,” the chamberlain murmured.

Fangru gazed at the glistening soup, feeling her throat constrict tighter. She ultimately didn’t touch it, only lowering her eyes to say: “Thanks for His Majesty’s grace, this subject isn’t hungry.”

When taking leave, she bowed and turned, her retreating figure resolute, never looking back.

Zhou Ling’s eyes lifted from the memorials, lingering on the palace door where she’d disappeared, finally settling on her untouched soup and cold tea. A fleeting, barely perceptible bitterness passed through his profound gaze.

…

One day while reviewing case files at the Ministry of Justice, Fangru was timidly approached by a youth resembling a restaurant errand boy, who announced that “the seasonal new dishes at First Taste Residence are ready, awaiting your convenience for sampling.”

Zheng Yu and others nearby listened in confusion, jokingly teasing: “Could some restaurant be trying to curry favor with Lady Fangru, being this attentive?”

Fangru’s heart tightened abruptly, though her expression remained composed as she calmly replied, “Understood,” before dismissing the messenger.

Only she knew this seemingly ordinary message was actually a coded signal she and Gu Zhou had established years ago. “New dishes” meant urgent information, and the “tasting location” referred to West Market—their former frequent haunt.

Finding an excuse to slip away, she hurried toward the bustling West Market.

Amid the flowing crowds, she spotted an inconspicuous blue-canopied carriage approaching slowly. The curtain lifted slightly, revealing Gu Zhou’s anxious profile.

“Get in!” he whispered urgently.

Fangru swiftly boarded, and the carriage wheels immediately began rolling.

Dispensing with pleasantries, Gu Zhou rushed to explain: “I wasn’t rescued by the White Sun Society! It was Zhou Ling! He had me drugged and dumped near one of their outposts! When they found me, I was nearly…” His voice thickened with emotion. “I’ve been trapped there all this time, unable to move freely or send messages. Today, I only managed to contact you because the branch leader ordered me to purchase supplies!”

As she listened, Fangru’s disgust for Zhou Ling’s schemes and cruelty deepened.

But when her gaze swept across the carriage interior, she noticed something unusual wedged in a floorboard crack—an object neither wooden nor metallic, its color and shape faintly matching the description of Western explosives she’d overheard officials discussing outside the palace yesterday!

Her heart hammered as she subtly bent down, pretending to adjust her skirt while quickly prying open the crack for a closer look. The sight stole her breath—the peculiar patterns and dull hues of the hidden object perfectly matched the terrifying device described to Zhou Ling yesterday, capable of detonating the capital at noon on the fifteenth!

Suppressing her turmoil, Fangru straightened calmly and fixed sharp eyes on Gu Zhou, whispering intensely: “What is hidden beneath this carriage? Where did you get it?”

Following her gaze, Gu Zhou’s face blanked with confusion and alarm: “I… I don’t know! This is just an ordinary carriage assigned by the branch leader for supply purchases. I never inspected it closely!”

“You don’t know?” Her voice sharpened with urgency. “Yesterday I heard firsthand—this is crafted by Western dark arts, designed to self-detonate at noon today! Powerful enough to destroy half the market! Is this true?!”

Gu Zhou’s face drained of color, his eyes darting nervously: “I’ve never heard… but if it’s true…” He grabbed her arm, voice selfishly frantic, “Then we must flee! Now!”

Fangru stared at him incredulously, wrenching her arm free. “Flee? If it explodes, what of the thousands of innocent people in this market? Should we abandon them to die in flames?”

Growing more desperate, Gu Zhou blurted recklessly: “We can’t worry about them! Fangru, our lives matter most! Come with me now!”

His words doused her like ice water, freezing her in place.

Staring at the man she’d once yearned for and risked everything to save, she felt only profound strangeness.

Overwhelming disappointment and coldness seized her.

Shoving him away, she declared with hardened finality: “Run if you must. I’ll drive this carriage to the deserted wilderness beyond the city. This device must not explode here.”

She stared intently at Gu Zhou, hoping he would utter even a single word of protest or offer to accompany her, hoping to see a glimpse of the responsibility he once possessed.

Yet Gu Zhou remained frozen in place, his lips trembling slightly before ultimately saying nothing, his eyes filled only with terror and self-preserving cowardice.

The last shred of hope vanished completely.

Fangru stopped looking at him, resolutely leaping onto the carriage shaft. With a sharp crack of the reins, she drove the death-laden carriage out of the bustling market, galloping toward the desolate western outskirts of the city.

…

Meanwhile, within the palace.

An official rushed into the hall, urgently reporting: “Your Majesty! We’ve just received intelligence—the explosives the White Sun Society ordered Gu Zhou to transport are targeting the West Market at noon today!”

Zhou Ling rose abruptly, his face darkening ominously: “Immediately order the Metropolitan Governor and the Patrol Battalion to evacuate all civilians from the West Market! Without delay!” After the command was swiftly issued, an inexplicable tension gripped his heart, prompting him to demand: “Where is Lady Fangru now?”

“Your Majesty, earlier reports indicated she was still at the Ministry of Justice.”

“Confirm again!” Zhou Ling’s voice was sharp, a strong sense of foreboding overwhelming him.

Moments later, the report confirmed his fears: “Your Majesty… Lady Fangru is not at the Ministry of Justice! We don’t know her whereabouts!”

“Gu Zhou…” Zhou Ling gritted out the name through clenched teeth, instantly arriving at the worst possible conclusion—either Gu Zhou intended to drag Fangru to their deaths together, or he planned to take her hostage!

“Saddle my horse! I’m going to the West Market myself!”

…

Elsewhere, Fangru had already driven the carriage to a relatively open woodland at the foot of the western city mountains.

She jumped down from the carriage, glancing back at the deathly silent compartment, her heart frozen with despair.

The shadow of death felt close enough to touch. Yet in this extreme silence and danger, an unexpected figure suddenly invaded her thoughts—Zhou Ling, the emperor she had vehemently resisted, despising his domineering and calculating nature.

If he were here, what would he do? Would he coldly watch her face death alone, resolving this crisis in the most “efficient” way possible?

Initially, she was almost certain he would.

Those unfathomable eyes of his were always calculating the most advantageous moves—she was likely just another expendable pawn in his game.

But then, his low, mesmerizing words echoed in her ears once more, haunting her like a ghost: “You must first learn to be utterly wicked…”

This thought disturbed her, even creating a bizarre illusion that he was standing behind her at this very moment, watching her choices with his usual invasive gaze, admiring her final struggle.

She could almost feel his tangible stare burning into her back, sending shivers down her spine.

She whirled around, trying to shake off the phantom, and strode quickly toward the forest’s edge.

But the explosion came too fast, too violent—giving her no chance to escape!

An ear-splitting roar tore through the sky as the earth trembled violently!

A terrifying shockwave carrying destructive flames, like a roaring primordial beast, lunged straight for her! She felt a brutal impact on her back, her light body flung upward like a broken kite.

Just as consciousness was about to be swallowed by agony and thunderous noise, a heart-wrenching cry pierced through all the chaos, striking directly into her ears!

“Fangru!!”

She struggled to lift her gaze, her eyes filled with disbelief.

Amidst the blinding flames and billowing smoke, the man she had just been cursing moments before truly seemed to have gone mad. He recklessly shoved aside the guards attempting to restrain him. Those eyes, which had always held deep calculation, were now bloodshot, filled only with sheer terror and madness, locked intently on her!

His black dragon robe was torn by the blast, nearly catching fire, yet he charged forward with a desperate resolve, rushing madly toward the direction of her fall.

As Fangru’s consciousness began to fade, a sharp, painful thought uncontrollably surfaced: All this calamity began because of you… You framed Gu Zhou, you trapped me in your grasp with schemes and cages, so why… why, when I’ve resolved to die, are you chasing after me so recklessly?

Zhou Ling… What does this behavior of yours even mean…

Before this tangled mix of resentment, bitterness, and an indescribable tremor could be sorted out, an even more violent second explosion erupted!

The blindingly intense light swallowed those blood-red eyes and devoured her last shred of consciousness. Endless darkness completely enveloped her in this lifetime.