On the wedding day, my wife was abnormal

Lin Zhen stood under the steps, his eyes suddenly turned as cold as a knife, his fists clenched in his sleeves, his gaze fixed on the censor.

Murong Yan paused tapping the armrest. She slowly raised her eyelashes and fixed her gaze on the imperial censor, her eyes calm and composed, as if she were looking at an insignificant insect.

Zhao Lian seemed to be even more frightened by this calm gaze, but the arrow was on the string and had to be released. He suddenly raised his head, with a look of tragic despair on his face, and shouted hoarsely:

"Your Majesty! Now that the North has just been pacified, the treasury is empty, and the people are suffering! As the ruler of a nation, Your Majesty should set an example for the world, cultivating virtue through frugality! Yet, Your Majesty...you wear such an extravagant nightgown all day long, even in the court without a trace of shame! This dress cost so much money, it could provide relief to tens of thousands of disaster victims! Your Majesty's actions chill the hearts of the people and harm the prosperity of our Great Qian nation! I beg Your Majesty! Change this nightgown immediately and never wear it again! This will show your repentance and reassure the hopes of your subjects! If Your Majesty does not comply...I...I will shed my blood in the Golden Palace today to prove my resolve!"

After saying that, he suddenly stood up, lowered his head and was about to crash into the golden dragon pillar beside him!

"Stop him!" Lin Zhen shouted sternly!

The guards in front of the palace were well prepared and immediately stepped forward to stop them!

However, in this split second——

"Ah."

A very light, yet icy cold sneer came from the dragon throne.

Everyone's movements, including the censor who was about to bang his head against the pillar and the guards who stepped forward to stop him, paused involuntarily.

Murong Yan slowly sat up straight, gently waved her wide flared sleeves, and signaled the guards to retreat.

The guard was stunned and looked at Lin Zhen hesitantly. Lin Zhen's face was ashen, but when he met Murong Yan's frighteningly calm eyes, he gritted his teeth and nodded slightly.

The guards stepped back.

Zhao Lian stood there in a daze, at a loss, his face covered in cold sweat.

Murong Yan didn't look at him, but leaned forward slightly, stretched out her hand wearing velvet knuckled gloves, and gently brushed the newly inlaid deep blue gem on the train of her nightgown, as if she was admiring a perfect work of art.

The entire Golden Palace was eerily quiet, with only the howling of the north wind outside the palace as the only sound.

"Die to prove your resolve?" Murong Yan finally spoke. Her voice was as gentle as a whisper between lovers, yet it caused the temperature in the palace to plummet. "Are you worthy enough to defile my golden palace with your blood?"

She slowly raised her head, her gaze truly resting on Zhao Lian for the first time. Her eyes were cold and empty, yet held a kind of indifference, as if she were looking down upon an ant. "Your blood... is too dirty."

Zhao Lian trembled all over and his face turned as pale as paper in an instant.

Murong Yan raised her hand from under her trumpet sleeve and pointed at him, her tone carrying a hint of cruel curiosity: "You want to die, you can."

She tilted her head slightly, as if pondering an interesting question: "Do you think... dying by banging your head against a pillar would be more beautiful? Or do you think... that would make you appear loyal and brave? Would it scare me? Would it make me... take off this dress?"

She suddenly chuckled, her laughter crisp but without any warmth: "How funny."

Her gaze swept across the pale, trembling officials in the room, and her voice suddenly became sharp and violent: "Do you think so too? Hmm? Do you think that if I find a loser to die here, I'll be afraid? That I'll compromise? That I'll do as you wish?!"

"We dare not!" All the officials knelt down and kowtowed like crazy!

"Don't dare?" Murong Yan stood up suddenly, and the five-meter-long cotton train dragged heavily across the jade steps, making a heart-pounding friction sound! She stepped down from the dragon throne and walked towards the limp Zhao Lian on the ground, the luxurious train spreading out behind her, and the gems scraped against the gold brick floor!

All the ministers were frightened out of their wits and retreated one after another!

Lin Zhen followed closely behind her, looking around vigilantly to prevent any accidents.

Murong Yan walked up to Zhao Lian. The dark black of her nightgown and the vibrant colors of the giant phoenix completely enveloped the ashen-faced Zhao Lian. She leaned forward slightly, her wide, flared sleeves drooping, almost touching the ground. Her voice was as gentle as a call from hell:

"Since you want to die so badly...I will grant your wish."

She stood up and glanced coldly at the guards in front of the palace: "Drag him away. Skin him alive. Remember, 3,600 cuts, not a single one less. Feed the flesh you cut off to the dogs. The bones..."

A cruel arc curved her lips. "Grind it into powder, mix it with gold lacquer, and use it to outline my clothes."

"As you wish!" The guards stepped forward without hesitation, picked up Zhao Lian, who was limp as mud and had lost control of his bladder, and dragged him out like a dead dog!

"Your Majesty, please spare me! Your Majesty, please spare me! It's Prince Jingbei! It's An..." Zhao Lian's screams for mercy stopped abruptly, obviously his mouth was blocked!

"King Jingbei? An?" Murong Yan repeated these two words. Her voice was not loud, but it sounded like thunder in the ears of every official!

She slowly turned around, her tail sweeping across a gorgeous arc, her gaze like a cold searchlight, slowly sweeping over the officials kneeling on the ground. Everyone who was swept by her gaze trembled as if their hearts and bones were being gouged out.

"It seems..." she whispered, with a chilling understanding in her voice, "there are more than one nest of rats..."

She slowly walked back to the dragon throne, her tail trailing on the ground, and sat back, leaning lazily against the backrest, as if the cold-blooded killing just now was just a casual slapping of a fly.

"Who else..." She played with the tassels on her trumpet cuffs, her voice tinged with a hint of lazy playfulness, "Want to imitate him... and use death to persuade me to change clothes? Now... you can come out."

Dead silence.

No one dared to answer. Only the suppressed sobs of fear could be heard.

"It seems that it's gone." Murong Yan nodded with satisfaction, her tone becoming more relaxed. "Then... let's withdraw from the court."

All the officials seemed to be pardoned and fled from the golden palace, which was like a Shura field, crawling and tumbling in despair.

Only Murong Yan and Lin Zhen were left in the hall.

The coldness and madness on Murong Yan's face quickly faded, stained with a hint of fatigue and boredom. She looked at Lin Zhen and stretched out her hand from under her trumpet sleeves: "Husband... I'm tired... Carry me back."

Lin Zhen quickly stepped forward and carefully lifted her up sideways, as if she were a fragile, rare treasure. The five-meter-long cotton tail drooped down, brushing against the cold ground.

"The mouse...jumped out by itself..." Murong Yan buried her face in his shoulder, her voice muffled and with a hint of disgust, "It stinks..."

Lin Zhen hugged her tightly, his eyes looking at the gloomy sky outside the hall, with a cold glint in his eyes.

He knew that Yan'er had, in the most brutal and direct way, uncovered a corner of the conspiracy. The game had begun. And his Yan'er, this tyrannical phoenix in a cotton nightgown, was enjoying this bloody hunt in her own way.

The phoenix lazily sniffs the fishy smell against the wind, while the golden palace laughs about the blood-stained collar. Cruelly, the conspiracy web is torn apart, while the rats and ants are quietly frightened.