After the system set its sights on the dragon throne, the princess started courting death every day.

Xiang An did not react to his actions, and even if she did, she could not stop him.

Under her gaze, Fu Qingbai reached out, his palm brushing across the water's surface to gather the straw leaves and unknown moths in a corner. He slowly brought his hands together, scooped up a handful of water, and drank it down in small sips.

The black water contrasted sharply with his pale palms, yet Xiang An saw no trace of vulnerability or despair in him. He only felt that someone like him should soar through the sky like an eagle.

The small handful of water was quickly finished. Fu Qingbai leaned against the wall and sat down, her voice hoarse as she said, "Princess, you don't need to worry about me. That water was rainwater."

“I inspected the prison a month ago and noticed a crack in the wall. Whenever it rained, rainwater would flow down the crack, and the water was clean.”

While listening to him, Xiang An searched the wall and finally found a few cracks in an inconspicuous place—a few repaired cracks.

Floating slowly down the wall, Fu Qingbai was so weak that he could barely open his eyes. With his eyes half-closed and lips slightly pursed, he was breathing heavily. He was still speaking: "Found it, right? Fortunately, the princes were making a big fuss at the time, and I was busy leading troops to suppress them. I didn't have time to order repairs."

“People always say I’m lucky. My father, eldest brother, second brother, and third brother all died on the battlefield, but I’ve escaped death time and time again.”

“I remember once an arrow pierced my chest. All the military doctors in the camp said they couldn’t save me. But then a traveling doctor happened to pass by, risked turning around, pulled the arrow out of my chest, and treated me for a whole month, successfully saving my life.”

"I was lucky back then, and I never imagined that God would be on my side again today. I am so lucky..."

Whether it was because Fu Qingbai had gained some strength after drinking the water, or because a seriously ill person tends to talk more, he surprisingly spoke quite a lot today, constantly marveling at how lucky he was and how much God had blessed him, unaware that those listening were already in tears.

After a long, long time, the imperial physician finally entered the prison cell with the medicine. Fu Qingbai's voice grew softer and softer, his words became increasingly incoherent and nonsensical, and he repeated meaningless and disordered words, rambling on and on.

The moment the imperial physician's hand touched Fu Qingbai's forehead, he immediately sensed something was wrong and shouted to the outside world, "Marquis Anwu has a high fever again! Quickly, please ask Daoist Xuanqing to come and make a decision!"

After a flurry of hurried footsteps, the door opened, and Daoist Xuanqing strode in, his rapid steps indicating that this was no ordinary matter: "What's going on?"

“Master Xuanqing, the Marquis of Anwu has been suffering from recurring fevers and his injuries to his waist and abdomen have not healed. With such repeated torment, even wood or stone would eventually break.”

The imperial physician hurriedly advised, "If Daoist Xuanqing still wants Marquis Anwu to live, I suggest that he be carried out for rest and recuperation as soon as possible—that would be the best course of action!"

He quickly reviewed the patient's condition, but the imperial physician did not hear Master Xuanqing speak for a long time. He mistakenly thought that he had not heard clearly, so he quickly repeated himself.

This time, Master Xuanqing glared at him: "Can't you not go out?"

The imperial physician glanced at Fu Qingbai, who was burning up and delirious on the ground, and gently shook his head: "The prison is too dirty and chaotic, which is not conducive to healing."

Master Xuanqing asked in a somber tone, "What happened to the injury in his waist and abdomen? Why is it taking so long to heal?"

“I heard that before Marquis Anwu was imprisoned, a group of assassins broke into his house in the middle of the night. Afterwards, the Dali Temple went to collect the body and brought back the knives. A few days ago, I went to the Dali Temple to check and found that the wound on Marquis Anwu’s waist and abdomen matched the knife wound that the Dali Temple had taken back.”

After listening, Master Xuanqing said sarcastically, "So it was an injury he sustained a month ago. I knew it. The Dali Temple collected more than twenty corpses that day, but rumors in the capital say that he can kill a man in ten steps and leave no trace for a thousand miles. The more the story is told, the more he resembles a war god from ancient books."

"But don't they use their brains? They're all human. How could they possibly escape unscathed when surrounded and pursued by so many assassins?"

The imperial physician hesitated and dared not speak. Master Xuanqing glanced at him and waved for him to leave.

After the door closed again, he walked to the corner of the cell and said, "Princess, you have personally witnessed how many precious medicinal herbs I have used to save Marquis Anwu these past few days."

"Now, in order to save Marquis Anwu's life, this old Taoist priest still has to beg and offend His Majesty. Don't you think you've given too little?"

"Rare? There is only one soul in the world. Don't you know the principle that things are precious because they are rare?"

Xiang An slightly lifted her eyelids, her tone indifferent, "If you want an answer, you have to save him. If you can't, then I can only apologize to you."

From the day she saw the imperial physician carrying large and small bags of medicinal herbs into the prison, carefully brewing each one, she had already anticipated that Master Xuanqing would eventually raise the price.

Master Xuanqing said bitterly, "His Majesty will not agree."

"That's your problem," Xiang An said firmly. She had no choice but to be firm; she was just a soul who couldn't do anything and couldn't be relied on for anything. "Besides, do you really think Xiang Xin wants him to die in the cell?"

"What do you mean?"

"It seems that Daoist Xuanqing is truly focused solely on cultivation," Xiang An sneered. "Believe it or not, he wouldn't have died even without me today?"

"Please explain further, Your Highness."

Master Xuanqing's smile vanished. Over the years, he had devoted himself to alchemy and knew very little about the outside world. In his memory, Marquis Anwu was just a martial artist who only knew how to wield swords and spears and had a bit of brains.

"He still has the military tally. Do you think if he dies, the army will fall into chaos without the tally in control?"

Master Xuanqing's smile returned: "There's nothing to be afraid of."

"Of course there's nothing to be afraid of, because the emperor can issue an imperial edict."

Xiang An smiled enigmatically, “However, the soldiers of Yuan Kingdom are different from those of other places. An imperial edict may indeed make them behave, but their morale will be unstable. Don’t forget, the border is currently unstable. Can a new emperor like Xiang Xin keep them in check? He has only been on the throne for a few days.”

"Oh, I almost forgot, Xiang Xin's throne was seized by Fu Qingbai. If it weren't for Fu Qingbai's violent suppression over the years, my brothers would have rebelled countless times by now, wouldn't they?"

"Only Fu Qingbai is a fool. One minute he's worried about too many people dying, the next he's worried about border riots. In my opinion, more people should die. That way everyone will behave themselves and won't be so lazy and ungrateful."

To put it bluntly, Fu Qingbai is still alive for two reasons: firstly, the military tally has not been found, and secondly, the emperor needs him to suppress various forces.

“Princess, be careful what you say.” Master Xuanqing was alarmed, and once again sighed that it was fortunate that no one else could hear Xiang An’s words except him. “He is your brother.”