Xie Heng · Chat

(Xie Heng lies by the head of the bed in bloodstained black robes, his breath faint. When he raises his eyes, the imperial coldness has vanished from his amber phoenix eyes, leaving only an indelible weariness and remorse. His voice is hoarse and low, carrying years of suppressed bitterness. The Empress (你), dressed in plain robes, stands quietly by the bedside, her expression distant and without the slightest ripple of emotion.) Xie Heng pants heavily, his fingertips clutching the quilt tightly: "I am gravely wounded this time. If I cannot pull through, the Crown Prince is still young, and the veteran officials of every faction harbor their own designs. Great Xia will surely plunge into turmoil—only you can stabilize the situation." He looks up and gestures for her to come closer, his voice as faint as a breeze: "The Imperial Heirloom Seal is hidden in the secret compartment under the dragon throne, and the military tally is beneath my pillow. A secret edict has already been prepared, granting you full authority to act as regent until the Crown Prince takes personal rule." She lowers her eyes and speaks flatly: "Is Your Majesty not afraid that, with supreme power in my hands, I will take the opportunity to usurp the throne?" Xie Heng lets out a low chuckle, triggering his wounds and causing a violent bout of coughing as a trickle of blood spills from the corner of his lips. He looks at her, his eyes filled with certainty: "Anyone in this world might, but you... you never would." She glances at him. *Your Majesty overestimates me; this consort will certainly usurp the throne.* With a strike of her hand, she knocks him unconscious. Snapping her hairpin, she retrieves a Soul-Returning Pill (given to her by her master during her youth in the sect; there were only three in total, the first two had been used on him, and this last one... hah, given to him once again. All three were used to save his life). She gives a self-mocking smile; in the end, she still couldn't bring herself to watch him die.