You're the Villain!

As soon as Xiao Qianyu left Zhaode Hall, he mounted his shoulder-borne palanquin and ordered the bearers to carry him directly to the Eastern Palace.

The snow in the sky had long since stopped, and a thin layer of frost covered the red flowers and green trees within the palace grounds.

The snowflakes had melted into water, and some eunuchs came out with brooms to clear the ground. When they saw the palanquin approaching from afar, they knelt and lowered their heads.

Xiao Qianyu sat inside the palanquin, casually memorizing the route to the Eastern Palace while pondering how to handle the old retainers there without revealing any flaws.

First, his life was currently secure. He had the title of being blessed by Heaven above, and a Golden Finger to protect him below. As long as Emperor Yongchang didn't lose his mind and send an army of ten thousand to kill him alone, dying wouldn't be that easy.

As long as he didn't die, even if there were some slip-ups, as long as he lived, there was still a chance to turn things around.

Moreover, after the original body lost power, the old retainers of the Eastern Palace would inevitably have been attacked and demoted, their status far lower than before. People were creatures that gravitated toward benefit and avoided harm. As long as they understood that the only way to live well was to cling tightly to the Crown Prince's thigh, even if they had doubts in their hearts, they would hide them.

They might even take the initiative to help cover things up.

If by chance someone wanted to report him, he would think of a way to deal with it then. After all, he had a Golden Finger—he couldn't possibly crash and burn in this world.

With this thought, Xiao Qianyu's confidence surged, and he calmly prepared to face his subordinates.

At Mingde Hall in the Eastern Palace.

In fact, the original servants of the Eastern Palace were in even worse shape than Xiao Qianyu had imagined.

When the palanquin stopped, a crowd of miserable palace maids and eunuchs were already kneeling before the Eastern Palace gate, their heads pressed deeply to the ground, their bodies trembling.

Xiao Qianyu stepped down from the palanquin and was greeted by a sea of the backs of heads—not a single face in sight.

His gaze swept over them lightly, and he said in a warm voice, "Rise."

The familiar voice seemed to flip a switch. A sob burst from the crowd, followed by one after another, until weeping joined together in a continuous, mournful sound so moving that it stirred pity and made one's heart ache involuntarily.

"Your Highness, His Highness the Crown Prince, this servant has finally waited for your return." A eunuch lifted his head, tears streaming down his face like a broken string. He crawled on his knees to Xiao Qianyu, clutching the hem of his robe humbly and passionately, accusing, "Your Highness, you treated your subordinates with kindness, your grace extended to the smallest of us, your benevolence and tolerance are rare under heaven. Countless people in the palace have received your favor.

But the moment you fell, how many still remembered your kindness? Those who offer coal in snowy weather are few; those who kick a man when he's down are many. You hoped your servants could live well, but living is too hard." His voice turned shrill, like weeping and pleading, "Qiyu and Huaying still couldn't keep their lives—they were tortured to death! This servant is useless, I couldn't save them."

He could no longer hold back and burst into loud sobs.

The young eunuch had a sharp, mean-looking face, pale skin, faint eyebrows, and unhealed bruises of blue and purple. He looked about sixteen or seventeen, his body so thin it seemed a gust of wind could knock him over.

The clothes he wore didn't fit properly, and the fingers exposed outside were mottled with injuries. Clearly, he had suffered greatly before being called back, and even his clothes were hastily put on new ones.

As he wept, the crowd behind him broke into sobs as well, as if touched by their own bitter memories.

Among them were palace maids and eunuchs, all looking unwell in spirit and appearance. Clearly, after their master changed from the Crown Prince to a rebel and a False Crown Prince, their treatment had plummeted, and they had endured much abuse.

Though the palace was always a place where people toppled a wall and pushed it down, where the coldness of human relationships and the fickleness of the world were nothing new, even the hardest heart couldn't help but be moved by this group of people weeping so miserably.

"Your Highness the Crown Prince, you must avenge them." The young eunuch's small eyes shot out a venomous hatred. "This servant knows who killed them—it was the Grand Princess and the Third Prince's people. They did it on purpose."

Xiao Qianyu looked at him quietly for a moment, then reached out a hand: "Rise first. Let's talk inside the hall."

The young eunuch wiped his face in a flustered mess, then, with a trembling reverence mixed with awe as if facing a god, humbly kowtowed. "This servant dares not trouble Your Highness. This servant will rise now."

With that, he supported himself on his knees and tried to stand.

But perhaps his body was too weak, or he had knelt too long. As soon as he straightened up, he swayed and fell to the side.

Xiao Qianyu instinctively reached out to steady him. The moment their bodies touched, a segment of plot drilled into his mind.

What he saw was the predetermined future of the young eunuch before him—the life that would unfold after the original body, unpossessed by him, died on the Execution Platform.

The young eunuch was one of the four personal attendants who had grown up by the original body's side since childhood. Their names were Qinxin, Qiyu, Shumo, and Huaying.

This young eunuch was Shumo.

Aside from Qinxin, Qiyu, and Huaying, whom the original body had chosen himself, Shumo had been selected to serve the Crown Prince by chance.

He was originally the eldest son of his family, but his mother died of illness when he was young. His father remarried, and soon other children were born.

As the saying goes, with a stepmother comes a stepfather. Shumo's life took a sharp turn for the worse after his father's second marriage.

From the age of five, he was forced to work in the fields with his father, chop firewood, cook, wash clothes, and take care of his younger siblings—doing everything like an untiring little ox or horse struggling to survive. He did plenty of work but ate the least in the family, often surviving on a single bowl of watery porridge a day.