224: Chapter 222 Each with their own thoughts

The Phoenix Sedan flew in the sky for a full day and night.

The Second Prince's territory was much more dilapidated than the Third Prince's.

The closer one got to the center, the more one could feel the traces of war.

There were signs of repair on the city walls, the gates were new, and the water in the moat was murky.

There were few pedestrians on the streets, most shops were closed, and occasionally a few Cultivators hurried past with their heads down, silent.

A tense atmosphere filled the air, like the stifling heaviness before a storm.

The Phoenix Sedan stopped above the Second Prince's palace.

No flower petals were scattered, no auspicious clouds were released, and no palace maids came out to spray perfume.

The Princess Royal, holding the Treasure-Spitting Mouse, stepped onto an unremarkable gray cloud and landed at the palace entrance.

The guards at the door recognized her and hurriedly bowed, while someone ran inside to report.

The Princess Royal did not wait and walked straight inside.

The Second Prince sat in a grand armchair in the main hall, a map spread out before him, a chess piece in his hand, playing a game against himself.

His complexion was terrible, his eyes were sunken, his cheekbones protruded, his lips were purple, and his hair was a mess, as if it hadn't been washed for days.

His robes were wrinkled, and his collar was open, revealing a section of his thin collarbone.

His fingers were very thin, the joints distinct, and the hand holding the chess piece trembled slightly.

Hearing footsteps, he looked up and saw the Princess Royal walking in, his brow furrowing. "Why are you here?" His tone was impatient, as if shooing away a fly.

The Princess Royal sat across from him and placed the Treasure-Spitting Mouse on the table.

The Treasure-Spitting Mouse lay on the table, glanced at the Second Prince, and closed its eyes again.

The Princess Royal looked at the Second Prince; her gaze held no sibling affection, no heartache, and no pity, only a business-like coldness.

"I want Xue Ji," she said. "To be my spirit pet. What method do you have? Name your price."

The Second Prince's hand paused.

The chess piece hung in mid-air, not falling.

His pupils contracted slightly, and his Adam's apple bobbed.

Then he put down the chess piece, leaned forward, supported himself on the table with both hands, and stared intently at the Princess Royal.

"Xue Ji isn't dead?" His voice was very low, as if squeezed from the depths of his throat.

The Princess Royal looked at his appearance, her brow furrowing slightly.

She knew about the Second Prince and Xue Ji, knew that Xue Ji was once his Favored Concubine, and knew that Xue Ji had betrayed him to join the Third Prince.

But she didn't know about Li Shan's attempt to curse Xue Ji to death, that Xue Ji had nearly died, or that Yun Ming had saved her using a forbidden technique.

She only knew that when she saw Xue Ji, she was alive and well, wearing crimson cloud flowing smoke, wearing makeup, lively and energetic, and even able to fight her.

"Of course she's not dead," the Princess Royal said. "She's alive and well. I saw her with my own eyes at the Third Prince's place."

The Second Prince stood up abruptly, his chair falling backward and hitting the ground with a dull thud.

The chess pieces on the table jumped from the vibration and rolled all over the floor.

The Treasure-Spitting Mouse was startled awake, opened its eyes, and looked around warily.

The Second Prince's expression changed, not into surprise or anger, but into a nearly crazed, twisted, and hysterical look.

"Li Shan!" he shouted toward the door, his voice so loud the roof trembled.

The door was pushed open, and Li Shan walked in.

His face was very pale, without a trace of blood.

His steps were very light, as if walking on cotton.

He walked up to the Second Prince and bowed, not daring to look up.

The Second Prince looked at him with a cold, sinister gaze.

He raised his hand and made a light grasping motion toward Li Shan's direction.

Li Shan's body suddenly stiffened, as if seized by something.

His left arm began to wither; starting from the fingertips, the skin became dry, wrinkled, and black, the flesh shriveled, and the bones became brittle.

Within a few breaths, the entire arm turned into a withered branch, dry and thin, like a sun-dried branch in autumn.

Then the withered branch began to break, crumbling piece by piece from the fingertips into powder that drifted to the ground.

Li Shan gritted his teeth and did not cry out.

Fine beads of sweat broke out on his forehead, and his body trembled slightly, but his back remained straight.

"Didn't you say," the Second Prince's voice was cold as ice, "that Xue Ji was dead?"

Li Shan's pupils contracted.

He looked up at the Second Prince, his eyes filled with disbelief. "Your Highness, it's impossible. This official's Thousand-Mile Soul-Chasing Curse has never failed. The Lifespan of over three thousand members of the Fox Clan was sacrificed for three full days and nights to sever six thousand years of her Lifespan. It's impossible for her to have survived."

The Second Prince kicked the table over.

Maps, chess pieces, teapots, and teacups crashed to the floor.

The Treasure-Spitting Mouse was startled, jumped off the table, and hid by the Princess Royal's feet.

The Princess Royal bent down to pick up the Treasure-Spitting Mouse, held it in her arms, and gently patted it to comfort it.

She watched the Second Prince's outburst without speaking or stopping him.

"Impossible?" the Second Prince's voice rose. "The Princess Royal just returned from Qingyao City and saw Xue Ji with her own eyes. She's alive and well! Do you think she's lying to me?"

Li Shan's face turned white.

Not the bloodless kind of white, but the kind of white from having all hope drained away.

His lips were trembling, his hands were trembling, his whole body was trembling.

He opened his mouth to say something but swallowed it back. Then he knelt down, his forehead touching the ground.

"Your Highness, spare my life! Your Highness, spare my life! This official also doesn't know what happened, I really don't know..." His voice trembled, tinged with a sob.

The Second Prince looked at him, the killing intent in his eyes growing stronger.

He raised his hand and made another grasping motion.

Li Shan's right arm also began to wither; starting from the fingertips, the skin became dry, wrinkled, and black, the flesh shriveled, and the bones became brittle.

Li Shan let out a miserable scream, gritted his teeth, and did not collapse.

"Your Highness!" he cried. "This official will definitely find out, definitely find out! Please, Your Highness, give this official another chance!"

The Second Prince looked at him, was silent for a moment, then snorted coldly and withdrew his hand. "Begone."

Li Shan, as if granted a great reprieve, stood up and stumbled out.

Both of his arms were gone, his sleeves hanging empty and fluttering in the wind.

His face was as white as paper, his lips purple, and his forehead covered in sweat.

He didn't wipe it, nor did he dare to.

With his head down, he quickly disappeared out the door.

The Second Prince stood in the empty main hall, his chest heaving violently, his breathing heavy.

He looked at the pile of powder on the ground—that was what Li Shan's arms had turned into—grayish-white, scattered among the broken porcelain and chess pieces. He watched for a few breaths, then looked up at the Princess Royal.

The Second Prince sneered. "A method? To kill her, I have plenty of methods. To capture her alive? You've come to the wrong person. Aren't you a Mid-Nascent Soul Stage Cultivator yourself? If you want her, go catch her yourself. Why come and ask me?"

The Princess Royal's gaze turned cold. "She lives in Yun Ming's home; that man is not easy to deal with."

The Second Prince glanced at her, a hint of interest appearing in his eyes. "Yun Ming? You mean that Alchemist?"

"Yes."

"What about him? He's just a Late Golden Core Stage Loose Cultivator. You're a dignified Mid-Nascent Soul Stage Cultivator, yet you fear him?"

The Princess Royal was silent for a moment. "He doesn't fear me," she said. "I told him to name his price, and he did. The throne, Void Refining cultivation, and a lunar crystal core." She paused. "He was playing me."

The Second Prince was stunned for a moment, then laughed. The laughter was unpleasant, like the sound of a rusty iron door being pushed open—piercing, dry, and emotionless. He laughed a few times then stopped.

"This person is indeed not easy to deal with," he said. "I sent people to kill him, but they failed. I sent Xue Ji to charm him, but that failed too. He's like an iron barrel—waterproof and impenetrable."

The Princess Royal looked at the Second Prince with a scrutinizing gaze. "So you have no way either?"

The Second Prince shook his head. "I have no way. If you want Xue Ji, find a way yourself. Don't bother me."

The Princess Royal stood up and placed the Treasure-Spitting Mouse on her shoulder. The mouse lay on her shoulder, its claws gripping her collar firmly. She looked at the Second Prince and was silent for a moment.

"You are not allowed to move against Xue Ji," she said. "She is mine. If you kill her, I won't be finished with you."

The Second Prince looked at her without speaking. His gaze was cold, cold as ice.

The Princess Royal said nothing more.

She turned and walked out of the main hall.

She passed through long corridors, walked along dark passages, pushed open heavy wooden doors, and stepped out of the palace. The night wind blew against her, carrying the scent of blood and the smell of charred smoke.

She took a deep breath and felt that even the air was filthy.

Stepping onto the gray cloud, she flew back to the Phoenix Sedan. The sedan curtain fell, and the pearl curtain closed.

The Phoenix Sedan slowly ascended, turned around, and flew back the way it had come.

The Second Prince stood in the main hall, listening to the receding bells of the Phoenix Sedan for a long time.

Then he walked to the window and gazed out at the pitch-black night. The moon was hidden by clouds, and the courtyard was dark; nothing could be seen clearly. His expression was terrifyingly dark, plotting something unknown.