The Vicious Woman and the White Moonlight are both me - Chapter 11

Such a look on Pei Shen’s face utterly shocked Song Zhaoyan and the palace attendants.

Seeing Pei Shen, seething with fury, charge straight toward her, Xuezhi—standing right beside Song Zhaoyan—finally snapped out of her daze and shouted, “Protect the Princess!”

The maids and eunuchs nearby hadn’t even processed what was happening, but their bodies moved faster than their minds.

They all knew perfectly well that if Pei Shen were to harm Princess Zhaohua here in the Chaoyang Palace today, none of them would leave this place alive.

No one dared let Pei Shen so much as touch a single hair on Song Zhaoyan’s head.

All the eunuchs threw themselves forward, blocking Pei Shen a few meters away. They wrestled him to the ground, pinning down his struggling body as his face contorted with rage.

The palace maids, pale with fright, rushed to Song Zhaoyan’s side, forming a tight circle around her—terrified that Pei Shen might break free, get up again, and charge at her once more.

Seeing Pei Shen react like this made Song Zhaoyan’s heart sink even further. She cursed the system over and over in her mind—how utterly inhuman it was.

She had followed its instructions exactly, yet all she’d managed to do was enrage Pei Shen to the point of wanting to kill her.

The system, being scolded, said nothing—only silently updated her points.

When Song Zhaoyan looked at the points she’d earned, she fell into silence once more.

After that brief pause, she could only resign herself to the situation and force anger back into her voice.

“How dare you! Such insolence—do you not know your place?!”

With a cold, derisive smile, Song Zhaoyan brushed aside the maids shielding her and cast a contemptuous glance at Pei Shen, who was still struggling against the eunuchs holding him down.

“Guards, tie him up! I’m going to teach him a lesson!

“Yes, Your Highness!” the eunuchs responded in unison, quickly binding Pei Shen.

Given the original Song Zhaohua’s temper, someone like Pei Shen—who had dared harbor thoughts of killing her—would never be easily forgiven.

So, Song Zhaoyan couldn’t just let the matter slide; otherwise, it would completely shatter the persona she was supposed to maintain.

She would have to punish Pei Shen for real, or at least make it look convincing. That much was clear.

Before she could even give further orders, the head maid had already commanded the servants to bring in all the instruments of punishment into the hall.

Even so, not even a princess had the authority to set up a private torture chamber.

But the original Princess Zhaohua was an exception.

Song Zhaoyan stared at the torture instruments laid out before her. If the original princess were here, she would no doubt be delighted—reveling in the intoxicating power to decide another person’s life or death.

But to Song Zhaoyan, just one glance was enough to make her bl00d run cold.

Instruments for gouging out eyes, slicing off ears, cutting tongues, piercing through the shoulder bones…

They were more complete than those found in the imperial prison itself. Song Zhaoyan couldn’t understand it at all. Even if the original’s mother had been the emperor’s unattainable “white moonlight,” his most cherished love, could that really justify such boundless indulgence toward her daughter? Was he truly unafraid that, shielding her without restraint; he would only embolden her arrogance—and risk rebellion among those beneath him one day?

At this moment, Song Zhaoyan couldn’t understand the former Princess Zhaohua, and the people of Chaoyang Palace couldn’t understand the princess standing before them now.

In the past, whenever someone offended her, she wouldn’t have hesitated for a second. No matter who it was, she would personally inflict the punishment herself—never delegating the task.

Only by tormenting her enemies with her own hands would the original princess feel satisfied.

But now, everyone watched in confusion as the princess didn’t even touch a single tool. She walked from one to another, examining each for a moment before shaking her head and moving on.

Could it be that none of these instruments suited the princess’s liking today? Madam Tao wondered.

But that couldn’t be right—these had always been her favorites.

She had once taken special pleasure in watching bl00d spray through the air the instant a victim’s body was torn open—it thrilled her like nothing else.

Pei Shen’s struggles had weakened, yet his eyes still burned with fury. That gaze was sharp as a blade, fixed on Song Zhaoyan, filled with nothing but the wish to see that venomous woman carved into a thousand pieces.

As Song Zhaoyan moved among the instruments, selecting them one by one, there was no fear in Pei Shen’s eyes—only deep, unyielding hatred.

When she still didn’t give the order to begin, Madam Tao, who had instructed the servants to bring out the torture tools, finally stepped forward and asked, “Your Highness, are none of these to your liking?”

Song Zhaoyan turned her head slightly and cast a cold glance at Madam Tao. Looking at the woman who had raised the original princess, Song Zhaoyan couldn’t help thinking that the princess’s warped personality probably owed quite a bit to her guidance.

“What is this? Are you teaching this princess how to do things?”

Madam Tao immediately bowed her head. “This servant wouldn’t dare!”

Song Zhaoyan gave a cold snort. With a crisp clang, she tossed aside the dagger in her hand. The metallic sound echoed sharply through the hall as she smiled—a wicked, playful smile.

“Those old methods of torture might have been satisfying once, but they’re all the same tricks over and over. Bl00d splattering everywhere—it gets tiresome after a while. Physical pain is dull. It’s the pain of the heart that’s truly entertaining.”

At her words, both Madam Tao and Xuezhi froze for a moment, their faces showing confusion—though they quickly forced themselves back to composure.

No doubt, the princess must have come up with some new and creative method of torment, the others thought.

But Pei Shen, upon hearing her words, remained utterly calm. He even sneered, saying, “Go ahead and use whatever new tricks you have. At worst, I’ll just die.”

Perhaps he truly meant it. After all, after so long under Song Zhaoyan’s cruelty—begging for death and being denied—it seemed far kinder to simply die quickly.

Naturally, Pei Shen chose the latter.

But Song Zhaoyan had no intention of granting him that wish.

She smoothed the hem of her skirt and walked unhurriedly toward him, tilting her chin slightly to meet his gaze.

Pei Shen glared at her through gritted teeth, hatred burning in his eyes for this venomous beauty before him. And for the first time, Song Zhaoyan found herself studying him up close, taking in every detail of his face.

“You want to die?” She asked softly. “That’s easy enough. But unfortunately for you, I have no intention of letting you off so easily.”

Pei Shen’s expression twisted into a scorn.

If he had truly resolved to die, no one could stop him.

Yet the very next words out of Song Zhaoyan’s mouth made his heart falter.

“You can die if you want,” Song Zhaoyan said, “after all, in this palace you have no one you truly care about. But I heard your birth mother, Zhang Cai-nu, left the palace years ago and now watches over the imperial tomb. I wonder…does she even miss you, her son?”

At those words, Pei Shen’s face really did change. The contempt in his eyes turned to sudden anxiety; his lips pressed together until they were white.

He understood Song Zhaoyan’s meaning perfectly: if he refused to let her vent her anger on him, she could go after his mother. Given the emperor’s indulgence toward Song Zhaoyan, a mere cai-nu rumored to have “enticed” the emperor would be nobody’s concern—dead and forgotten, with no blame falling on the princess.

No one would mourn a cai-nu’s life except Pei Shen.

Seeing him abandon his earlier defiance, please Song Zhaoyan.

“It seems you know exactly how this works,” she said. “If you die, I’ll lose my entertainment. Who, then, will I find to amuse myself?”

The hall fell silent. Those around them held their breath and watched, perhaps wondering if Song Zhaoyan’s words also threatened their own futures.

When serving a powerful master, doing your duty well could bring rewards, and even if you were sent out to take the fall and die for them, some masters at least treated the family of the fallen with some kindness.

Serving under Song Zhaoyan meant living with your head tied to your belt every day—ready to lose it at any moment. And even if one day you proved your loyalty by dying for her, there was little chance you’d gain anything from it.

The thought chilled everyone to the bone.

At last, faced with Song Zhaoyan’s words, Pei Shen’s tone softened.

“It was I who angered the Princess. If Your Highness wishes to punish or kill me, then direct it at me alone—please, don’t harm anyone else.”

His words greatly pleased Song Zhaoyan. She threw her head back and laughed, loud and proud, as though savoring the taste of his humbled plea.

Now everyone understood what she had meant earlier.

Physical torment was meaningless, breaking the heart was far more entertaining.

Seeing that Pei Shen no longer looked ready to die with her, that the fierce urge to kill her had faded from his eyes, Song Zhaoyan lifted the same delicate dagger from before. As she gently sliced through the ropes binding him, she said, “You wanted to kill me just now? Let me think…how should I punish you for that?”

But before her words had even faded, Pei Shen suddenly seized her hand—the one holding the dagger—and without hesitation, drove it straight into his own chest.

Everyone around them tensed instantly, but when they saw that Pei Shen hadn’t harmed the princess, they let out a collective sigh of relief.

The act, however, left Song Zhaoyan completely stunned. Her eyes widened in shock as she stared at the dagger buried deep in Pei Shen’s body.

Her attention was entirely on Pei Shen. Still shocked by his actions, she naturally didn’t notice her own hand trembling.

Pei Shen wavered slightly, gritting his teeth against the pain. He lifted his gaze to meet Song Zhaoyan’s, who looked momentarily stunned, and spoke, “It was my impulse, Princess. I beg your pardon for my rash behavior—please do not blame me!”

Although the dagger had pierced him, Song Zhaoyan had deliberately restrained her strength, so it hadn’t gone all the way in. Still, she didn’t dare pull it out lightly.

Steeling herself, she scolded him with evident displeasure: “So, you truly ignored my words just now and even dared to risk your life? Then I have no choice but to petition Father to bring your birth mother back from the imperial tomb!”

Pei Shen bowed slightly, his lips trembling, each word carefully measured with immense restraint: “Princess, please calm your anger! I never sought death. I only wish to apologize for my actions just now and humbly beg for your forgiveness!”

Though he spoke this way, Song Zhaoyan, glancing at his wound, still warned him sharply: “Whether you truly seek forgiveness or merely a way out, I only know this—if I lose this source of amusement, I’ll simply find a new one.”

With that, she finally released her grip on the dagger without hesitation. With a flick of her sleeve, she turned and ordered, “Xuezhi, send someone to the Imperial Medical Office and have the physicians tend to him.”

Watching the two contrasting expressions on Song Zhaoyan’s face, a look of confusion flashed across Pei Shen’s eyes. He wasn’t the only one—everyone standing in the hall felt the same bewilderment.

The Princess Zhaohua had… let the Ninth Prince go so easily? No grand execution, no gruesome dismemberment, leaving barely a drop of bl00d? And he had even injured himself, yet the princess had still ordered the physicians to treat him?

It was still a form of torment, yes, but could it really be true that breaking someone’s heart was this entertaining?

No one dared disobey Song Zhaoyan’s orders, fearful that even a moment’s hesitation might incur her wrath.

She was still the same princess as before—reviled by all for her cruelty—but now, perhaps growing older, she seemed to prefer methods that didn’t spill bl00d yet tormented just as thoroughly.