> Chapter 25: Repeated History

  Blood. That was Youzhen's first coherent thought as consciousness returned following a particurly intense episode of dizziness and visual distortion that had cimed her awareness during the evening meal. Warm wetness spreading beneath her imperial sleeping robes suggested a gynecological crisis potentially threatening not only her health but the impossible child growing within her womb.

  "Your Majesty must remain still," came an unfamiliar voice from bedside, where a young attendant Youzhen couldn't immediately identify leaned forward with careful assessment evident in her youthful features. "The bleeding increases with movement."

  The imperial bedchamber remained recognizable despite the unusual absence of Lady Mei's typically hovering presence. Through the windows, darkness suggested te evening or early morning, though Youzhen couldn't determine how long awareness had psed during this test episode. The jade-inid screens depicting immortals traversing sacred mountains now seemed to undute slightly in her vision, their movements suggesting either hallucination or further deterioration of her senses.

  Youzhen attempted to sit up, only to be restrained by gentle but firm hands. The movement sent fresh waves of warm blood soaking through her sleeping garments. She could feel it pooling beneath her, a terrifying reminder of both her vulnerability and the precious life she carried.

  "Where is Physician Wang?" she managed despite her throat feeling unusually dry, prioritizing medical assessment given the obvious bleeding suggesting pregnancy crisis.

  The young attendant's expression revealed unexpected sorrow beneath her professional demeanor, her hesitation confirming Youzhen's immediate sense that significant developments had occurred during periods of lost consciousness. She was perhaps twenty years old, with a quiet competence in her movements that suggested training beyond normal pace servants.

  "Physician Wang has been reassigned to northern border region due to urgent epidemic requiring his expertise," she finally expined, diplomatic phrasing barely concealing the obvious power py eliminating the final trusted medical authority from the imperial household.

  Youzhen's heart sank at this news, though her imperial composure revealed nothing. "When?" she demanded, imperial authority momentarily reasserting despite physical weakness and continuing blood loss.

  "Three days ago, Your Majesty," came the shocking response, confirming consciousness had been compromised for significantly longer period than she'd initially assessed. "You have experienced extended episodes of unconsciousness followed by brief periods of confusion before returning to sleep."

  The time loss—far exceeding previous incidents involving momentary disorientation—represented arming escation in her deterioration, matching Wang's warning regarding continued exposure to unidentified toxin. More disturbing, extended unconsciousness had provided perfect opportunity for her rivals to eliminate the final trusted medical authority without possibility of imperial countermanding.

  "And you are?" Youzhen inquired, automatically assessing the unfamiliar attendant who had apparently repced Lady Mei during these lost days.

  "Ming-hua, Your Majesty," the young woman replied with a formal bow containing what appeared genuine concern beneath ceremonial requirement. Her simple blue silk robes bore no factional identifiers, and her hair was arranged in an understated style that didn't immediately indicate household alignment. "Previously assigned to Princess Yousun's household."

  This connection to her sister—potentially indicating alignment outside her uncle and brother's direct factional control—offered small hope amid increasingly desperate circumstances. Yousun might have deliberately positioned a trusted attendant before her orchestrated departure, providing a potential ally within an otherwise hostile household environment.

  "The bleeding?" Youzhen prompted, prioritizing immediate medical crisis despite political implications requiring urgent assessment.

  Ming-hua's expression revealed professional concern beneath careful composure. "Significant but not yet critical," she reported with surprising medical knowledge suggesting training beyond standard attendant requirements. "Though continued blood loss without intervention will eventually threaten both imperial health and the child."

  Youzhen nodded slightly, processing this information with the calm deliberation expected of an emperor despite the panic threatening to overwhelm her. She could feel each heartbeat pushing more of her lifeblood from her body, her strength ebbing with it.

  "What intervention would you recommend?" Youzhen asked, deliberately phrasing the question to confirm suspected medical training while assessing this potential ally's capabilities.

  Ming-hua hesitated briefly before apparent decision regarding necessary candor overrode conventional attendant limitations. She gnced toward the door, then leaned closer, her voice dropping to barely above a whisper.

  "Complete removal from current environment represents the only effective intervention," she stated with professional directness transcending normal servant-sovereign communication protocols. "Continued exposure to causative elements guarantees eventual catastrophic outcome despite symptomatic management."

  The blunt assessment—matching Wang's final conclusion before his orchestrated reassignment—confirmed both poisoning diagnosis and necessity of desperate measures. With blood continuing to spread beneath imperial bedding, theoretical alternatives had transformed into immediate survival requirement.

  Ming-hua gnced nervously toward the door again before continuing, her voice dropping even lower. "Your Majesty, I must speak quickly. Your sister sent me—Princess Yousun tried to reach you herself with evidence of your brother's pns, but she was intercepted."

  Youzhen went still, the implications of this statement washing over her like ice water. "Intercepted?" she repeated, though she already knew what the answer must be.

  Ming-hua's eyes filled with tears she quickly blinked away. "The Princess is dead, Your Majesty. They cimed she fell from her horse during an unauthorized attempt to leave the summer pace. But her handmaiden witnessed guards following her on your brother's orders."

  A cold, grinding rage settled in Youzhen's chest, momentarily overshadowing even the physical pain of her condition. Yousun—barely sixteen, whose only crime had been loyalty to her eldest sister—murdered by their own brother. The ultimate confirmation that family bonds meant nothing against naked ambition.

  "The Princess discovered documents," Ming-hua continued urgently, "Correspondence between your uncle and brother detailing how your death would be arranged to appear as complications during childbirth, should the slower poisoning fail to eliminate you before the child becomes viable."

  Youzhen closed her eyes briefly, absorbing this final confirmation of what she had already suspected. Her retives weren't merely opportunistically capitalizing on her illness—they were actively causing it, with a clear timeline for her elimination.

  "I gained position here through bribing a kitchen servant," Ming-hua expined. "Lady Mei was called away to confer with your brother's advisors regarding your deteriorating condition. We have perhaps an hour before she returns."

  With newfound crity born of desperation, Youzhen made her decision. "Assist me in rising," she directed, recognizing that remaining options had narrowed to a single desperate course requiring immediate implementation.

  Ming-hua's expression revealed professional concern. "Your Majesty cannot safely—"

  "Remaining guarantees death for both myself and the child," Youzhen interrupted with imperial finality, survival calcution overriding medical caution. "Attempting relocation offers minimal possibility versus certainty of current trajectory."

  The young attendant nodded understanding, recognizing legitimate assessment despite professional reservations. With careful movements bancing necessary support against aggravation of bleeding, she helped Youzhen to sitting position before retrieving a simple outer robe to cover blood-stained sleeping garments.

  "Guards remain positioned in corridor," Ming-hua reported quietly as she secured dark blue silk around Youzhen's form with practiced efficiency. "Though midnight rotation provides minimum staffing until morning change."

  "Excellent timing," Youzhen acknowledged, tactical assessment functioning despite increasing light-headedness from blood loss. "Eastern Pace represents our destination, through indirect approach avoiding main corridors."

  Ming-hua's expression revealed momentary surprise at mentioned destination—Sam's quarters remaining sealed since his departure—before practical assessment apparently accepted the desperate logic. The Eastern Pace represented the only location within imperial compound theoretically beyond rival faction's control.

  "There is servant's passage connecting through storage chambers," the young attendant suggested, revealing knowledge of pace architecture beyond standard household staff awareness. "Though physical distance remains significant given Your Majesty's current condition."

  "I am still Empress of China," Youzhen replied, her voice betraying none of the fear and desperation coursing through her. "If I must crawl there on hands and knees, I shall do so."

  With Ming-hua's careful assistance, she rose fully from blood-stained bedding. Momentary dizziness required pause before establishing sufficient stability. Each movement sent fresh rivulets of blood down her thighs, but Youzhen fixed her mind on the image of her dead sister, using rage as fuel where physical strength failed.

  The narrow servant passage behind the ornamental screen proved darker than expected, lit only by occasional oil mps pced at intervals. Ming-hua produced a small covered candle from within her robes, providing minimal illumination while minimizing detection risk from light visible beneath doors.

  "Princess Yousun selected her household staff carefully," Ming-hua expined as they made slow progress, each step requiring monumental effort from Youzhen. "We trained for various contingencies, including emergency extraction of imperial family members."

  The journey through narrow servant corridors proved nightmarish combination of physical endurance and tactical maneuvering requiring extended rest periods between cautious movement segments. Blood continued seeping through sleeping robes beneath outer covering, leaving intermittent trail that Ming-hua attempted to conceal through strategic pcement of various items "accidentally" dropped during their passage—hair ornaments, handkerchief, even one shoe repced with spare carried specifically for this purpose.

  "Clever," Youzhen acknowledged during brief rest period, leaning heavily against the wall while Ming-hua monitored for sounds of pursuit. "Your previous position involved security responsibilities?"

  "My father served in the imperial guard before being stationed at frontier outposts," Ming-hua confirmed while checking corridor ahead. "He taught me what he knew before dying in border skirmishes. Princess Yousun valued such skills among her attendants."

  This revetion—that Yousun had deliberately cultivated security-trained personnel within her household despite appearing focused exclusively on artistic pursuits—suggested remarkable political sophistication beneath her sister's carefully maintained appearance.

  "She understood the danger before I did," Youzhen murmured, grief momentarily overtaking tactical focus. "I should have heeded Sam's warnings about family ambition."

  "Master Zhu spoke true wisdom in this," Ming-hua acknowledged, surprising Youzhen with her apparent familiarity with the silver-eyed advisor's perspectives. "Princess Yousun documented his observations carefully, believing his outsider's view provided crity court tradition often obscures."

  They continued their agonizing progress through servant passages, each segment requiring greater willpower from Youzhen as blood loss weakened her further. Several times she nearly colpsed, saved only by Ming-hua's steady support and her own refusal to surrender to unconsciousness that would doom both her and her unborn child.

  "Why the Eastern Pace?" Ming-hua finally asked during one rest period, curiosity apparently overcoming servantly restraint. "The sealed chambers cannot be opened without Master Zhu's presence."

  Youzhen leaned against the wall, each breath requiring conscious effort as her body struggled against mounting weakness. "Something within those chambers might offer protection beyond human barriers," she expined, unable to articute the inexplicable certainty that had formed regarding Sam's technology. "His devices operated in ways beyond court understanding."

  Ming-hua nodded acceptance despite obvious skepticism regarding access possibilities. "The doors resist all attempts at entry. Some servants believe supernatural forces guard the chambers."

  "Perhaps they do," Youzhen acknowledged, pushing herself upright with tremendous effort. "We shall soon discover the truth of such beliefs."

  As they approached junction leading toward Eastern Pace, distant voices suddenly echoed through connecting passage, indicating guard patrol moving through main corridor ahead. Ming-hua quickly extinguished their candle, pulling Youzhen into shadowed alcove housing unused storage containers.

  "Change of guard rotation," she whispered, barely audible even in complete silence surrounding them. "Earlier than expected. Someone may have discovered your absence."

  Youzhen nodded understanding, conserving strength rather than wasting it on verbal response. Each heartbeat seemed to push more blood from her body despite pressure bandages Ming-hua had improvised from torn undergarments. The metallic scent of her own blood filled her nostrils, its coppery taste coating her tongue despite having consumed nothing since regaining consciousness.

  "Alternative route requires descending service stairs," Ming-hua suggested after guard voices faded into distance without approaching their position. "Physical demands significantly greater but avoids main patrol patterns."

  "Proceed," Youzhen directed, imperial decisiveness uncompromised despite physical deterioration reaching critical threshold. "Time matters more than comfort now."

  The service stairway proved nearly insurmountable challenge, each downward step sending fresh waves of blood between Youzhen's legs despite Ming-hua's supporting arm around her waist. By bottom nding, imperial robes had become completely soaked through yers of improvised bandaging, leaving distinct trail impossible to conceal through dropped items or strategic distraction.

  "We cannot continue concealment," Ming-hua acknowledged, abandoning pretense of secrecy in favor of direct approach given deteriorating physical condition. "Reaching Eastern Pace quickly now outweighs detection avoidance."

  Youzhen nodded agreement, focusing remaining strength on forward movement rather than tactical considerations rendered irrelevant by obvious blood trail marking their passage. The final corridor stretched before them, its length appearing impossibly vast through vision increasingly tunneled by blood loss and physical exhaustion.

  "Almost there," Ming-hua encouraged, practically carrying imperial form now completely dependent on external support to remain upright. "Eastern Pace entrance appears unguarded despite increased patrol activity."

  The massive wooden doors carved with celestial patterns marking Sam's private domain finally appeared before them, their imposing presence somehow more intimidating in pre-dawn darkness broken only by occasional wall sconces casting flickering shadows across ornate carvings. No visible locks or conventional security mechanisms adorned their surface, yet all previous attempts at entry had reportedly failed through means beyond standard understanding.

  Blood now flowed freely down Youzhen's legs despite Ming-hua's attempts to minimize movement impact on gynecological crisis, creating small pools marking their passage through final corridor. Imperial consciousness fragmented into disjointed impressions—Sam's mocking silver eyes during their st encounter, Yousun's gentle smile now forever stilled, her father's face before illness cimed him, her uncle's calcuting gaze during recent court functions.

  "Voices approaching from eastern junction," Ming-hua warned urgently, gncing back toward corridor they had traversed. "Guards have discovered the blood trail."

  Desperation mounted as Youzhen realized they had reached literal dead end should Sam's sealed chambers remain closed against their approach. The doors offered no conventional entry mechanism—no handles to grasp, no locks to pick, no seams to exploit through physical tools or manipution. Nothing but smooth wooden surface carved with celestial patterns seemingly integrated with surrounding frame through means beyond visible joining methods.

  "Your Majesty must call for him," Ming-hua urged, supporting imperial form now completely dependent on external stabilization. "The doors supposedly respond only to Master Zhu's direct authorization."

  Youzhen stared at the sealed portal, momentary doubt threatening remaining confidence before imperial will reasserted through lifetime training and innate determination that had elevated her to unprecedented female occupation of Dragon Throne. Despite having no logical reason to believe sealed chambers would respond to her approach, inexplicable certainty had formed regarding Sam's technology offering protection beyond human barriers if she could somehow activate whatever mechanisms controlled access.

  With final effort transcending physical limitations through imperial will, she pressed bloodstained hand against sealed doorway, focusing remaining strength into desperate plea transcending conventional communication channels.

  "Sam," she whispered, formal address abandoned in extremis as blood pooled beneath imperial form now completely dependent on Ming-hua's support to remain upright. "I need you."

  For long moment nothing happened, sealed portal remaining impenetrable barrier beyond normal physical access despite desperate circumstances. Then, just as voices from approaching guard patrol became distinguishable words rather than indistinct sounds, subtle blue glow spread across carved surface beneath her bloodstained fingers.

  With surprising gentleness given their massive construction, the doors parted silently before her, revealing Sam's private chambers illuminated by subtle blue light emanating from various objects whose function remained beyond imperial comprehension. The glow cast strange shadows across unfamiliar devices positioned throughout spacious chamber—metallic constructions with flowing lines and pulsing illumination suggesting life despite obvious mechanical nature.

  "Impossible," Ming-hua gasped, momentarily frozen by sight completely outside previous experience or conceptional framework. "How did you—"

  Her question remained unfinished as arrow suddenly protruded from her throat, blood spraying across Youzhen's face as the young attendant colpsed forward, momentum carrying imperial form across threshold before Ming-hua's body fell partially across entryway, preventing doors from completely closing behind them.

  "The Empress attempts escape!" came shouted command from corridor, where imperial guard captain now stood with drawn bow alongside several soldiers bearing imperial brother's factional insignia rather than traditional pace guard identification. "Secure her immediately!"

  With remaining consciousness rapidly fading, Youzhen witnessed Ming-hua's final act of loyalty—the dying attendant somehow finding strength to pull her body completely inside chamber despite arrow through throat, allowing doors to close fully just as soldiers reached threshold. Blood bubbled from Ming-hua's lips as she formed final words without sound, life fading from eyes that had served princess and empress with unmatched dedication.

  The doors sealed with same silent precision that had marked their unexpected opening, blue glow intensifying along perimeter as if responding to external threat. From outside came muffled sounds of impact as guards apparently attempted forced entry without success, their efforts seemingly insignificant against whatever forces maintained sealed portal against unauthorized access.

  "Sam," Youzhen whispered again as consciousness finally surrendered to overwhelming blood loss and physical exhaustion. "Where are you when I need you most?"

  As darkness cimed her awareness, final impressions registered strange blue light intensifying around her colpsed form, surrounding pool of mingled blood—her own and Ming-hua's creating macabre mixture across polished floor. Various devices throughout chamber seemed to activate in sequence, their illumination patterns changing from steady glow to pulsing rhythm suggesting deliberate response rather than random fluctuation.

  Her st thought before darkness completely cimed awareness focused not on personal survival but on the impossible child whose existence had upended careful political calcutions yet now represented tangible connection to silver-eyed demon whose absence had allowed imperial security to crumble beneath ambitious retives' methodical usurpation strategy.

  "Protect your child," she whispered to emptiness illuminated by strange blue light, hand unconsciously moving to blood-soaked robes covering abdomen where impossible life continued struggling against increasingly hostile conditions. "Even if you cannot return to protect me."

  As imperial consciousness faded into void, blue illumination throughout chamber intensified to brilliant radiance briefly visible through minute seams surrounding doorway before settling into rhythmic pulsation somehow synchronized with Youzhen's weakening heartbeat.