My palace is full of female protagonists.

Outside the city gates of the capital, a chilling silence reigned, shrouded in the darkness of night. The silvery moonlight cast a cold glow across the empty ground, failing to illuminate the corners swallowed by darkness. Time seemed to freeze at that moment, until a sudden, sharp whistling sound shattered the oppressive stillness, followed by the high-pitched, mournful cry of a falcon, like a night's lament, foreshadowing misfortune.

Immediately afterward, the air was filled with the whooshing sound of flapping wings—the hawks, the rulers of the night, were beginning their feast under the moonlight. The eyes of these birds of prey gleamed greedily in the darkness as they circled low or swooped down, making the scene on the ground appear even more gruesome. The prefect stood to one side, and even though he was used to seeing death and had witnessed countless executions, this scene still sent a chill down his spine. Corpses lay strewn about, the mixture of blood and earth gleaming eerily reddish-black in the moonlight, while the night hawks, with their sharp beaks and talons, mercilessly tore at the bodies of these unfortunate victims. Pieces of flesh and entrails were thrown into the air, only to fall heavily back down, splashing up even more filth.

Even in the still night, the surrounding trees began to sway inexplicably, as if touched by some unseen force. But this was not natural breathing; it was the crows, perched silently on the branches, their jet-black feathers blending into the darkness, only their gleaming eyes revealing their anticipation for the feast to come.

In the distance, though shrouded in deep night, the stars seemed to struggle to pierce the darkness, occasionally twinkling to add a barely perceptible glimmer to this cruel scene. However, this glimmer was quickly obscured by a flock of circling bats, who wove an invisible net across the night sky, each flap of their wings seemingly whispering the secrets of the night.

Fang Hujie, a young official, had never witnessed such a horrific scene. His stomach churned, and he finally couldn't hold back any longer and ran to the side to vomit. In contrast, Deputy General Zhang appeared much calmer. He calmly instructed his men to bring a basin of hot water, carefully washed the bloodstains from his hands, and said indifferently, "During the day, this place is occupied by various birds, which either peck at the food or cry out mournfully. But at night, it is the domain of these nocturnal creatures." His words conveyed both reverence for nature and a sense of感慨 about the impermanence of life.

The prefect's voice was deep and powerful, carrying an undeniable resolve: "Wait until these wild birds have eaten their fill before cleaning up the mess. This is the fate that traitors deserve! After everything is over, burn it all down to the ground, leaving not even a trace of their ashes, so as not to defile this land." His words revealed a deep hatred and disdain for the traitors.

Upon hearing this, Deputy General Zhang nodded solemnly and echoed, "What the Prefect says is absolutely right. These people betrayed the country and have long since lost the right to be worshipped by future generations. If anyone were to want to recognize them, that would be a great disgrace and a desecration of loyalty and justice."

Just as the two were talking, a sudden cry broke the surrounding silence, like a trembling sound in the cold wind, sending chills down their spines. A soldier holding a bow and arrow stood up abruptly, his sharp gaze fixed on the area below the city gate, his expression wary.

In the dim moonlight, a little beggar huddled by the city gate, her thin body shivering in the cold wind. She seemed drawn by the horrific scene, or perhaps for some inexplicable reason, wanting to search for someone she knew among the pile of corpses. However, the falcons circling around her filled her with unprecedented fear; their sharp beaks and talons gleamed coldly in the night, as if they might strike her at any moment.

Seeing this, the soldier shouted sternly, "If you want to die, come over here! This is not a place for you!" With that, he drew back his bowstring, the arrow gleaming coldly in the moonlight, and aimed it at the helpless little beggar. The little beggar was terrified by the shout; her cries grew even more piercing. Even with tears blurring her vision and her limbs trembling with fear, she instinctively turned and staggered into a nearby alley.

The falcons seemed unconcerned by the little incident; they quickly flew back to the pile of carcasses and continued their feast, scrambling for every piece of meat that could fill their bellies. The little beggar's cries gradually faded into the night, leaving only a deathly silence and endless desolation.

The prefect and Deputy General Zhang, also watching from the city gate, exchanged a complex look. They both understood that in this chaotic world, anyone could become the protagonist of a tragedy. They silently turned away and continued dealing with the mess before them, secretly praying that such tragedies would be fewer and fewer.

After a moment of silence, Deputy General Zhang slowly pulled a heavy string of copper coins from his pocket. There were ten coins in the string, each gleaming with an ancient and dim luster. He gently tossed the string of coins accurately into the narrow alley the little beggar had just fled into. The sound of the coins hitting the ground was particularly crisp in the quiet night.

Immediately afterward, a series of faint but hurried footsteps echoed in the alley; it was the little beggar fumbling for the copper coins that might represent her hope for survival. The prefect, witnessing this scene, couldn't help but exclaim, "Deputy General Zhang is truly kind-hearted!"

Upon hearing this, Deputy General Zhang's lips curled into a complex, cold smile, a smile that contained both helplessness and self-mockery: "You flatter me, Prefect. I was merely thinking of some brothers from the battlefield. In those years, we risked our lives together, yet some of us were left forever on that land. I thought that being forced back to the capital and placed in this seemingly leisurely position would allow me to escape the bloodshed and slaughter, and no longer witness the horrific sight of corpses strewn across the fields. I never imagined that fate would still deliver such a scene before my eyes, giving me a 'visual feast'."

By the end, his voice was tinged with bitterness and resentment. Then, he abruptly turned to the soldiers and shouted, "Go check if there are any left in the warehouse, and bring a few more!"

Upon hearing this, the soldiers immediately sprang into action, their figures darting swiftly through the night, and soon returned with several strings of firecrackers. Deputy General Zhang took the firecrackers, a resolute glint in his eyes. He personally lit one end of a firecracker and then forcefully tossed it down. The firecracker traced a bright arc through the air before landing amidst the pile of corpses torn to pieces by the falcons.

With a series of crackling explosions, sparks flew, illuminating this corner where darkness and death intertwined. The falcons that had been scrambling for food on the corpses were startled by the sudden flash of light and scattered in all directions.

The firelight illuminated the faces of Deputy General Zhang and the Prefect, their expressions both resolute and complex. On this night, they witnessed yet another cruel and helpless scene.

The prefect sighed softly and turned to Fang Hujie, who was still vomiting uncontrollably. He gently patted Fang Hujie's back to comfort him, and said in a steady voice, "Lord Fang, we should go to the palace to report to the Emperor. The matter here has been handled properly; now we must report today's events truthfully." Fang Hujie's face was ashen, and vomit still clung to the corners of his mouth, making him look extremely disheveled. He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but ultimately only managed a weak groan before the prefect half-supported, half-helped him to his feet.

Deputy General Zhang stood aside, watching this scene, a barely perceptible sneer playing on his lips. In his view, Fang Hujie's weakness and discomfort actually made him feel much more at ease. After all, this meant they had one less person who might cause trouble when they went to report to the Emperor. Deputy General Zhang thought to himself, "This is good; it saves me from an unnecessary scolding."

Meanwhile, in the imperial study, Emperor Zhao Chengyu paced back and forth, his brow furrowed and hands behind his back. His face was filled with anxiety and anger, clearly indicating his extreme dissatisfaction with the day's events. Princess Yi and Yun Feiyu waited quietly to the side, brewing tea, attempting to calm their inner turmoil with its aroma. However, even the fragrant tea could not completely dispel the tense atmosphere in the imperial study.

Just then, Empress Zhao Qi'er slowly entered the Imperial Study. Her face was solemn, yet it also revealed an undeniable determination. "Your Majesty," she said softly, "the arrangements at the Imperial Prison are complete. All the relevant prisoners have been properly settled." Zhao Chengyu nodded slightly upon hearing this, seemingly wanting to say something, but then forcibly swallowed his words. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his emotions, and then slowly spoke: "Today's matter must be thoroughly investigated. There can be no slackening. I want to know who dares to be so arrogant, daring to commit such a despicable act within the capital!"

Zhao Chengyu's thoughts suddenly drifted back to the distant past, a warm yet slightly bittersweet memory buried deep in his heart. In the scene, Zhao Qi'er was still wearing simple, coarse cloth clothes. Although the clothes were simple, the style was fashionable in the capital, clearly hand-sewn by her, each stitch imbued with deep affection. The background was a humble courtyard on the frontier, far removed from the hustle and bustle of the capital, accompanied only by wind, sand, and solitude.

Zhao Chengyu felt as if he had returned to that day. He felt as if he had just done a long day of hard work, the sweat on his forehead congealing like fine salt, leaving a rough texture. His muscles ached all over, but his heart was filled with an indescribable passion and enthusiasm—a love for life and a yearning for the future.

Zhao Qi'er suddenly appeared in the scene. Her hair was slightly messy, but her hair bun was neatly tied, revealing a unique charm. She rushed in from outside the courtyard gate, her face full of concern and anxiety: "Your Highness, how can you do so much work? I'll do the rest. You go boil some water, and I'll go pick some vegetables and stir-fry the cured meat in the kitchen."

Zhao Chengyu, then known as Zhao Yingqing, smiled slightly upon hearing this, a hint of mockery flashing in his eyes: "Oh? What good news? You've actually decided to stir-fry all that precious cured meat you've collected?"

Zhao Qi'er lowered her head, her voice tinged with shyness and determination: "The rations will be distributed in two more days. I stir-fried some cured meat today, and there should be half a bowl left. We can eat that tomorrow. And there will be fresh meat the day after tomorrow!"

Upon hearing this, Zhao Yingqing felt a surge of warmth in his heart. He smiled and shook his head, "You're quite the schemer. You just got back, so don't run around. Boil a few more pots of water; I want to take a shower tonight. I'll go pick some vegetables; you rest here."

At that moment, the air in the courtyard seemed to freeze, leaving only their warm conversation and the occasional chirping of birds. Zhao Yingqing turned and walked towards the vegetable garden, his back view firm and warm, while Zhao Qi'er stood there, her eyes filled with tenderness and respect.

However, as Zhao Chengyu's thoughts delved deeper into that memory, he gradually noticed some subtle inconsistencies. The Zhao Qi'er before him, though still resembling the one Zhao Yingqing remembered, revealed differences in the details. Zhao Chengyu noticed that although Zhao Qi'er's hair was hastily tied up, it still appeared disheveled, with a few stray strands stubbornly falling across her forehead, clearly having been loosened not long ago. Furthermore, while the front of her clothes was quite clean, the back was stained with a few inconspicuous specks of dust, as if she had just experienced a period of haste and labor.

What surprised Zhao Chengyu even more was that when Zhao Yingqing (himself) suggested taking a bath, Zhao Qi'er's reaction wasn't the gentle smile or playful retort he remembered. A complex, almost imperceptible emotion flickered in her eyes—a light mingled with worry, exhaustion, and determination. She simply nodded silently, without uttering a word, a stark contrast to the energetic and eloquent Zhao Qi'er Zhao Yingqing remembered.

But by then, Zhao Yingqing had been worn down by the harsh life on the frontier, losing his former sharpness and vitality. He was busy every day for survival and duty, almost exhausting all his energy. Under such heavy pressure, he no longer had the extra strength to pay attention to the details around him, let alone to deeply interpret the subtle changes in Zhao Qier's eyes.

Especially in front of Zhao Qi'er, Zhao Yingqing let down all his guard and strength, showing her his most vulnerable side. Because in that desolate and lonely place, Zhao Qi'er was the only one willing and able to take care of him. Her existence was like a ray of light, piercing through the gloom of the frontier and illuminating Zhao Yingqing's dark world.

However, Zhao Chengyu realized at that moment that the memory might not be as beautiful and pure as he had imagined. Behind those forgotten details, perhaps lay Zhao Qier's untold hardships and sacrifices, as well as her various efforts to protect Zhao Yingqing. This discovery stirred up an indescribable emotion in Zhao Chengyu's heart, a mixture of nostalgia for the past, gratitude, and guilt towards Zhao Qier.