[1]The Consort is Both Charming and Scheming, Rising Through Palace Intrigue

Xiao Yu's expression remained calm. His sharp gaze swept over her coldly as he said, "Utterly incorrigible."

With that, he flicked his sleeve and turned to leave. He had just taken two steps when Nangong Ling called out to stop him: "Your Majesty, you don't actually need to bestow me poison wine. This body of mine already has no other path but death."

As she spoke, she looked at the cup of poisoned wine on the table and struggled to her feet to lift it.

Hearing the movement, Xiao Yu turned around just in time to see her raise the cup and down its contents without hesitation.

Once she finished drinking, her hand loosened, and the cup fell to the floor with a heavy, chilling clatter.

She stared dazedly at Xiao Yu, her voice mournful, "Now that things have come to this, I just want to ask one thing—over the past eight years, Your Majesty, did you ever have even a sliver of true feeling for me?"

Tears rolled down her cheeks, resting at the edge of her jaw, refusing to fall. Seeing Xiao Yu silent, face stern, she looked up and whispered again, "Even just a little?"

Xiao Yu turned his face away, refusing to meet her eyes, his gaze deep as he coldly replied, "Never."

With those words, he walked away without looking back.

Those two words crashed into Nangong Ling's ears like a boulder, her heart suddenly seized with a pain so intense it felt as if an iron weight had been pressed against her chest, threatening to crush it entirely.

The loss of her child was already a raw, open wound—and this was like salt being viciously rubbed into it. Her ashen face, wet with tears like falling rain, blurred her vision as she watched his retreating back. With a heart full of rage and despair, she cried out, "Your Majesty! I curse you—may you never win the heart of the woman you love!"

Her scream was heart-wrenching, but Xiao Yu's steps did not falter. Only when his figure had vanished did Nangong Ling spit out a mouthful of blood.

Her eyes vacant and dazed, she stared at the dark red stain on the floor. Her breath grew weaker, her body slumped to the ground, blood trickling from the corner of her lips down her chin.

Enduring the agonizing effects of the poison, her hoarse throat let out a raspy voice: "In the next life, I want to be a good person. May I never enter the palace again, in all lives to come."

With those final words, her body convulsed violently a few times before her resentful eyes slowly closed.

In this lifetime, she was like a blooming azalea in the sunset—radiant and vibrant, but only able to flourish in the heights of mountains.

In the end... she was never meant for palace life.

Sunlight streamed in at an angle, shining down on her crimson dress as if preserving the last glimmer of her former brilliance within the palace.

From that moment on, Nangong Ling—once the most favored concubine in the palace—vanished from the harem, her name remembered no longer.

Later generations, if they mentioned her at all, would only speak the word "criminal."

⸻

Xiao Yu sat in the royal carriage, eyes staring into the distance, lazily propping his head up with his hand.

Back then, he had indeed chosen Nangong Ling as his concubine because of her powerful family. Only with a noble and influential general backing him could his chances at the throne grow stronger.

It was precisely because he used her that, even though she was willful and unruly, he had indulged her upon entering the residence.

Later, after the empress tampered with the fertility medicine Nangong Ling was taking—causing her to become infertile—he felt even more guilty toward her.