Mentioning Prince Min, Song Ci couldn’t help but remark that this person truly has resilience, dragging along a body even weaker than hers, one that any Imperial Physician would say couldn’t live past thirty due to frailty, yet he managed to endure the brink of death time and again, surviving past thirty.

How old is he now, thirty-three or thirty-four?

Song Ci wasn’t sure, but she knew that many in the capital admired him greatly for evading the Soul Hooking Envoy’s grip time and again, triumphing over King Yan.

And Song Ci knew that he clung on, preferring to linger, perhaps out of reluctance.

After all, there was a binding attachment in this world for him, namely his young daughter.

Song Ci counted on her fingers, recalling the year Prince Min’s Princess Consort birthed a child, indeed it was early summer the year Niu Pan’er left, giving birth to a daughter named Chu Hua, treasured like a gem.

Prince Min must be reluctant to leave that little daughter.

But now, he ultimately cannot endure.

Song Zhiyuan left the mansion, heading towards Prince Min Mansion, with Emperor Chu leaving the palace, which was significant, as a trusted minister, he naturally had to go.

Song Ci sighed, extending her hand towards Nanny, saying: “Accompany me to the Buddhist hall to light incense.”

…

Prince Min Mansion was engulfed in silence, making one feel sorrowful from the heart, the servants coming and going all kept taut faces, hunched their necks, fearing making the slightest noise, scared of incurring the master’s displeasure, risking their heads.

Though such an atmosphere had existed several times before, it was different then, merely false alarms, but now, the Emperor has come, indicating Prince Min truly won’t pull through this time.

He cannot endure.

Emperor Chu looked at Chu Ze lying on the sickbed, skeletal and shrouded in doom, understanding within that he truly cannot pull through this time.

He felt somewhat dazed, remembering when as a child this boy’s face was round like a bun, especially adorable, full of vitality, but now, cheeks sunken, devoid of flesh, eyes cloudy and complexion ashen with grey, his life’s energy fading away.

A young man near death.

Emperor Chu felt discomfort in his heart, pinching his fingertips.

“Cough, cough, minister’s appearance is untidy, causing you to see a joke.” Chu Ze pulled at his mouth corner and said: “However, just see it this once, after… cough, cough, after you won’t see it again.”

Emperor Chu turned towards the Imperial Physician, Cheng Yizheng, and asked: “Is there any way to make Prince Min more comfortable?”

Cheng Yizheng hesitated.

There were indeed ways, but they were tiger-wolf medicines, using them would only hasten death.

Chu Ze said: “If there is, bring it up, I also wish to be more comfortable.”

Cheng Yizheng looked at Emperor Chu, the latter nodded, and he bowed and went to prepare.

Soon, he returned with a pitch-black pill, someone fetched water, and assisted him in consuming it.

The medicine quickly showed effects, Chu Ze’s face soon gained some red glow, his eyes seemed less cloudy, but everyone present understood, it was merely the last radiance before death.

Cheng Yizheng awkwardly reminded: “Emperor, Prince, please make it brief.”

Emperor Chu pursed his lips, looking at Chu Ze, the latter signaled everyone to retreat, then took a black box from the bedside cabinet and handed it over.

Eunuch Zhou glanced at Emperor Chu, upon seeing him nod, he stepped forward to receive it, opening it to find a scroll inside.

“What’s this?”

Emperor Chu raised an eyebrow.

Chu Ze glanced at the box and said: “Minister wishes to make a deal with the Emperor, no, to beseech you a favor.”

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