Reborn Nine Times, the Tyrant Always Wants to Imprison Me - Chapter 25

Fangru opened her eyes once more, the clamorous noise of the Xuanji Banquet and the familiar scenery before the prefect’s residence instantly flooding her senses.

She had returned again, like a boomerang pulled by invisible strings, repeatedly and futilely circling back to the starting point.

Her fingertips curled slightly, but her heart no longer held the panic or desperate determination to save him that had characterized her initial cycles.

In her previous life, Gu Zhou’s terrified, retreating gaze beside the carriage—concerned only with self-preservation—had pierced through her once-unreserved trust and passion like an icicle.

She would still save him, of course; it had become an inescapable obsession throughout her reincarnations. Yet that frantic urgency to sacrifice everything regardless of consequence had quietly cooled.

What chilled her more profoundly than Gu Zhou’s cowardice was Zhou Ling!

That lofty emperor who could overturn the clouds and rain with a turn of his hand!

She now saw clearly: Gu Zhou’s wrongful accusation, the explosion that had nearly blown her to pieces—tracing it to its source, it all stemmed from his schemes and false charges!

The frustration and disappointment from failing to save Gu Zhou had not yet fully dissipated when they were replaced by another, more piercing and acute emotion: a bone-deep fury and hatred toward Zhou Ling. Like a winter chill, it rapidly permeated her heart, freezing all her previous weakness and hesitation.

This life, she would not only save Gu Zhou but also teach that damned emperor a lesson!

She took a deep breath, suppressing her turbulent emotions. Her gaze swept over the false prosperity of clinking glasses and exchanged toasts before her, a faint yet icy curve lifting the corner of her lips.

With graceful poise, she stepped into the banquet, her jade ornaments tinkling softly and her sleeves carrying a subtle fragrance. With a sweep of her eyes, she had already assessed the situation in the room.

Seeing Zhao Minglan approaching with that “perfectly timed” cup of wine, she inwardly sneered. After so many lifetimes, did he really think he could repeat the same old trick?

Just as the other was about to “accidentally” spill it, Fangru subtly shifted her delicate foot, her skirt swirling like butterfly wings, while the jade cup in her hand slipped out a split second earlier.

The fine wine splashed out, precisely soaking the exquisite gown Zhao Minglan had so carefully selected.

“Oh my!” Fangru lightly covered her crimson lips. “My apologies, Miss Zhao. But I noticed your hand trembling terribly as you held the cup—could you be suffering from some hidden ailment? At such a young age, you really ought to have it properly treated.”

Watching the other’s face turn pale and livid, a sense of satisfaction rose in Fangru’s heart.

Having been reborn multiple times, she had long seen through these people’s laughable tactics. Since they insisted on humiliating themselves, they could hardly blame her for showing no mercy.

Before this disturbance could settle, Lin Yueyao indeed approached with her usual hypocritical demeanor, her words full of provocation: “Little sister Fangru seems in high spirits today? Well, with Young Master Gu imprisoned, it’s only natural you’d want to distract yourself from your sorrows. What a pity—he was once so attentive to me, probably because he couldn’t have me, which is why…”

In the past, such words would have pierced her heart.

But now, Shen Fangru found it utterly ridiculous.

Suddenly, her eyes dimmed, as if she might burst into tears at any moment, and she grabbed Lin Yueyao’s wrist:

“Sister Lin… could it be you’ve dreamed of him too?” Her voice trembled, carrying an indescribable eeriness. “He came to me in a dream last night, drenched and shivering, saying how cold it was underground… asking why I wouldn’t join him… and… and he kept calling your maiden name…”

Lin Yueyao was terrified by the sudden eerie words, her face instantly turning as pale as paper. She jerked her hand back and shrieked, “Nonsense!” Without regard for decorum, she stumbled away in haste.

Watching Lin Yueyao flee in panic, her beauty marred by fear, Shen Fangru’s lips curled into a cold smile.

How ridiculous.

In her first life, she had actually been wounded by such a shallow person.

What startled her more was how she could now use Gu Zhou’s “posthumous affairs” as a pretext without the slightest ripple in her heart. The man for whom she had willingly undergone a hundred cycles of reincarnation to save had, at some point, ceased to stir even a trace of emotion within her.

This transformation into someone so calm, almost detached, unsettled even herself.

But upon reflection, after enduring the hardships of multiple lifetimes, it would be truly laughable if she remained as naive as before.

Shen Fangru’s gaze shifted lightly, passing through the bustling crowd to rest on Su Wanqing, who stood quietly nearby.

This time, she no longer approached with the initial caution and calculation but with the clarity and serenity born of countless cycles. She met the other’s ever-kind and lively eyes openly, offering a sincere and gentle smile along with a slight nod of acknowledgment.

Su Wanqing seemed momentarily surprised but soon returned an equally friendly smile, approaching with light steps.

As Fangru looked at Su Wanqing, she couldn’t help but recall the events of her second life.

Back then, she had helped Su Wanqing win the dance competition championship. Though it brought glory, it also invited numerous troubles for Su Wanqing—envy from other noble ladies, behind-the-scenes gossip, and countless provocations.

Remembering this, Fangru felt a pang of guilt. That champion’s honor had instead become a burden for Su Wanqing.

When Su Wanqing drew near, Fangru skipped excessive pleasantries. Her gaze rested softly on the other’s face as she spoke in a warm voice, “Miss Su, with so many talents vying for attention at today’s Xuanji Banquet, have you considered competing for the dance championship?”

Her tone was earnest, devoid of any condescension or pity, carrying only pure respect and support. “If you have such intentions, I will spare no effort to assist you, hoping to add splendor to your excellence.”

After speaking, the lingering guilt from her previous life seemed to ease slightly. This time, she had truly placed the choice in the other’s hands.

Upon hearing this, a flicker of surprise passed through Su Wanqing’s clear eyes, soon melting into quiet gratitude.

She could sense the sincerity and consideration in Shen Fangru’s words—it was neither mere politeness nor calculation.

She smiled gracefully, her expression flowing like a clear spring, carrying self-awareness and contentment. “Wanqing thanks Miss Shen for your great kindness.” Her voice was soft yet firm. “However, this empty title of champion means far less to me than quietly observing the capital’s splendid scene and appreciating everyone’s talents. Being able to attend this banquet is already a fortunate opportunity; I dare not greedily seek more.”

Hearing this, Fangru’s slight worry completely dissipated, replaced by a surge of relief.

She admired Su Wanqing’s clarity and open-mindedness—the very understanding she herself had only grasped after multiple rebirths, while the other had already embodied it naturally.

This was excellent. She had both honored Su Wanqing’s innate desire for tranquility and avoided the potential troubles that glory might bring once again.

“Miss Su’s magnanimity is truly admirable,” Shen Fangru’s smile spread from her lips to her eyes, carrying genuine appreciation. “Since that’s the case,” her tone brightened slightly while a glint of unwavering resolve flashed in her gaze, “I shall no longer stand on ceremony.”

Fangru’s mind was clear as a mirror – she was determined to claim the dance championship in this lifetime.

This wasn’t merely to replicate the path of her first life, which would grant her an audience with the emperor in the Glazed Hall, but more importantly, to execute her plan of luring Zhou Ling to the Drunken Immortal Pavilion.

This time, however, her state of mind was entirely different, now encompassing respect and consideration for her friend’s wishes.

During a lull in the banquet, her gaze swept through the crowd and caught sight of Zheng Yu conversing with colleagues.

Seizing the moment when no one was watching, she quietly slipped away to a secluded spot. From her sleeve, she produced a pre-written note bearing handwriting she had spent several lifetimes perfecting to mimic the “imperial brush” with uncanny accuracy.

With a subtle movement of her fingers, she silently tucked the note into the folds of Zheng Yu’s belt, ensuring it would only be discovered when he straightened his attire after the banquet.

…

As expected, Fangru once again claimed the championship after the dance performance.

Just as in her first life, a palace eunuch delivered the imperial decree summoning her to the Glazed Pavilion for an audience.

Just as Zhou Ling was about to speak, sudden exclamations erupted in the garden – Du Heng and Cheng Jinse had both fallen into the water, creating immediate chaos.

Seizing this fleeting opportunity, Fangru stepped forward and whispered to Zhou Ling, “This place has become rather disorderly. If Your Majesty wishes to discuss this humble maiden’s dance, perhaps we might adjourn to the Drunken Immortal Pavilion? They have newly arrived fine wine that would perfectly complement the occasion.”

Zhou Ling’s gaze lingered on her face for a moment before he nodded in agreement.

The elegant chamber on the second floor of the Drunken Immortal Pavilion was quiet and secluded, with only occasional faint sounds from the marketplace drifting through the window.

Fangru pretended to deliberate over the wine selection while her mind raced ahead.

Drawing from confidential documents she had secretly read in the imperial study during her previous life, she clearly remembered that on the day of the Xuanji Banquet, spies from the White Sun Society would lie in ambush in this very alley once they spotted Zhou Ling leaving the palace with her.

In her first life, that innocent silk merchant’s daughter hadn’t actually been killed by any gambling cousin – she had merely happened to witness this ambush and was silenced by the White Sun Society, with the scene carefully staged to look like a common murder.

In her three previous lifetimes, she had intended to save this woman but had been unable to advance this far due to various obstacles.

This time, everything was different. Not only would she use the White Sun Society to teach Zhou Ling a lesson, but she would also seize this opportunity to alter that woman’s fate.

With her resolve firm, she excused herself under the pretext of selecting wine.

Instead of going far, she quietly circled to the window overlooking the alley and deliberately raised her voice, ensuring her words would carry clearly into the deep lane:

“His Majesty is resting here. You must guard carefully and prevent any unauthorized persons from approaching!”

No sooner had her words fallen than almost imperceptible movements stirred in the alley’s shadows – the ambush was now in position.

She quickly composed herself and returned to the chamber, only to find Zhou Ling visibly impatient, his slender fingers tapping rhythmically on the table with dull thuds.

“My patience has limits,” he said, lifting his gaze. Though calm, his eyes carried intangible pressure. “If Miss Shen continues to lack sincerity, we shall conclude matters here today.”

With that, he rose, sleeves sweeping, preparing to depart.

Fangru sneered inwardly, yet her face timely revealed a perfectly measured sense of urgency as she stepped forward to softly intervene: “Your Majesty, forgive my presumption! The specially brewed ‘Snow Plump’ wine I procured for you has reached the perfect warming temperature. Its first cup must be enjoyed near ventilation downstairs while hot to fully capture its ice-snow essence. The wine steward awaits below—I beg Your Majesty to grace us with your presence momentarily. One sip will prove its worth.”

Her words carried deliberate haste, eyes brimming with carefully crafted anticipation and flattery.

Zhou Ling’s gaze sharpened instantly, scanning her like a hawk piercing through her meticulously maintained facade.

The chamber’s atmosphere solidified for a breath. Beyond the window, an almost imperceptible tap echoed—the covert warning from his shadow guard Gao Xuan.

A flicker of understanding and icy amusement passed through Zhou Ling’s eyes.

The corner of his lips curled in a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, instead radiating dangerous undertones. He rose, sweeping his sleeves as he closed the distance until their robes nearly brushed.

“Snow Plump? Requiring wind-assisted consumption?” he repeated in a low voice, lazy yet corrosive with pressure. His gaze swept her lips before locking onto her eyes. “Shen Fangru, the trap you’ve so painstakingly set today… interests me more than your stage performance ever did.”

His whisper grazed her ear, warm breath stirring fine tremors across her skin: “Very well. I shall personally taste this ‘poisoned wine’ you’ve so meticulously distilled.”

His words, combined with his invasive proximity and those all-penetrating dark eyes, made Fangru’s heart constrict—certain he had seen through the entire scheme.

She suppressed the dryness in her throat and churning doubts, nails digging deep into her palms.

At the stairwell landing, a street-facing window stood slightly ajar.

Just as Zhou Ling’s attention seemed captured by the view below, dark figures erupted from the alley!

The whistle of blades tore through the air.

Zhou Ling appeared anticipated it, his lips even holding a trace of cold amusement as if watching a pre-decoded play. He shifted half-step like a phantom, the arrow aimed at his back merely grazing his robe.

In one fluid motion, he seized an approaching assassin’s wrist, snapping the bone with brutal precision. The crisp fracture echoed sharply before he flung the broken body aside like discarded trash. “Gao Xuan!”

The shadow guard commander materialized from darkness, sword light cascading like silver silk as he engaged multiple ambushers. His blade wove an impenetrable frost-net around the emperor.

Even at the epicenter of flashing steel, Zhou Ling moved with courtyard-stroll calmness, yet his eyes held venomous sharpness as they suddenly swept toward the alley’s depths.

Fangru hid behind stacked crates, only her calmly observing eyes visible.

She had concealed herself perfectly, ensuring no stray conflict would reach her.

Zhou Ling’s gaze—piercing through the chaotic fray to pinpoint her—contained scorching disappointment, knowing mockery, and… an indescribable, possessive fury kindled by betrayal, threatening to devour her whole.

Yet the White Sun Society’s arrangements proved ruthlessly thorough.

Several figures leaped down from the rooftops, scattering a cloud of pungent, disorienting powder into the air!

Though Gao Xuan swung his sword like a protective screen, desperately parrying, he was still entangled by several fearless death warriors who fought with reckless abandon.

Zhou Ling held his breath and swiftly retreated, his wide sleeves dispersing the mist, yet he inevitably inhaled a small amount. His tall, upright figure faltered slightly, and his movements became momentarily sluggish in the blink of an eye!

Seizing this fleeting opening, a specially crafted black, resilient net descended like a lurking venomous snake, enveloping him from above!

Several other experts swiftly closed in, their finger strikes as fast as lightning, precisely and ruthlessly sealing several vital acupoints across his body.

At the moment of being completely subdued, Zhou Ling did not struggle.

Instead, he let out a low chuckle, his chest vibrating with a magnetic quality that sent shivers down the spine.

He then raised his eyes, his gaze piercing through the distance one last time, casting a deep, lingering look toward Fangru, who was hidden in the shadows.

His eyes no longer held any emotion, only the icy stillness of an emperor and a mocking pity, as if silently questioning, “After all your scheming, is this what you sought?”

The members of the White Sun Society, having succeeded, did not linger. They swiftly retreated into the depths of the alley, taking Zhou Ling with them.

Gao Xuan roared in fury, cutting down two men with his sword as he gave chase, while simultaneously firing a whistling arrow into the night sky to call for reinforcements.

Only then did Fangru slowly emerge from behind the wooden crate, standing alone in the now somewhat emptier alley.

The icy stillness and mocking pity in Zhou Ling’s final gaze did not frighten her. Instead, it made the corners of her lips curl upward uncontrollably, sending a shiver down her spine—a mix of dangerous allure and extreme exhilaration.

She had succeeded!

She had truly done it! That emperor who had toyed with her and caused her endless suffering through cycles of reincarnation had finally been pushed into a trap by her own hands.

An unprecedented sense of liberation washed over her entire being, as if a thousand-pound burden had been lifted from her shoulders.

Gazing in the direction where he had been taken, Fangru’s eyes held not a trace of unease, only a startlingly brilliant light.

She had cleverly kept herself out of harm’s way, achieving her goal without a single scratch.

Taking a deep breath, the air around her seemed to be filled with the scent of freedom and victory.