Page 107 of The Blood Orchid

I turned to Wenshu and Yufei, who stood speechless at the railing beside me.

Was this because we’d changed her name?

I’d assumed that at least a small percentage of the city would be her walking corpses—either bodies that Gaozong had taken from the stockpiles in the dungeons, or peasants that he’d killed and resurrected with her name carved into them. I’d known that those people would “die” when I changed Wu Zhao’s name, for they would only be empty shells. But I hadn’t anticipated this many.

“Gaozong killed all these people by himself?” I whispered. The guards were trying to control the crowd below, but could do little to fight the crush of fleeing people.

“The Wei River is just beyond the walls,” Yufei said, staring stone-faced at the chaos below. “Maybe she already put chicken-blood stone in it.”

“But she only threatened to do that in Guangzhou because of me,” I said, clutching the banister. The crowd had finally begun to clear, revealing the trampled corpses like squished red grapes in the dirt.

Wenshu shook his head. “She wanted everything, Zilan.”

The doors opened behind us, and a flustered looking guard threw himself into a bow at Wenshu’s feet.

“Your Highness,” he said. “What are your orders?”

Wenshu grimaced. “I’ll handle this,” he said, waving for the guard to stand up and leading him back into the palace.

I turned back to the street below, the echoes of screams from far away rising to the red sky. This was supposed to feel like a victory, but even when she was gone, the Empress found a way to destroy.

At least she could never come back, as long as Zheng Sili had taken care of Gaozong...

Zheng Sili.

All at once, I remembered seeing the throne room through the Empress’s eyes.

Zheng Sili fighting with Gaozong.

Zheng Sili covered in blood.

Zheng Sili falling from the window.

I shoved away from the railing, tripping over my skirts.

“Zilan?” Yufei said, steadying me.

But I pulled away and ran past her, down the empty hallways. The Empress’s path was scored into the soft golden tiles—a thin scratch where she’d dragged Gaozong’s sword.

I burst back into the throne room, but Zheng Sili’s body was gone, a pool of dried blood beneath the window.

I drew back at the sight of Gaozong, barely catching myself on the doorframe when Yufei ran into me.

But Gaozong was unconscious, collapsed only a few feet from the window. When he didn’t react to the sound of the door slamming behind us, I drew closer.

I knelt down at his side. He had no visible injuries, and his chest rose and fell with slow, deep breaths. I pulled out a knife and pricked it under his chin, but as a drop of blood rolled across his throat, he didn’t so much as twitch. I sheathed the knife and tugged his eyelid up, examining the vast emptiness in his pupils.

The door opened once more, and I heard Wenshu whisper something to Yufei behind me.

“His soul is loose,” I said, frowning and rolling up his sleeves. When I couldn’t find a soul tag, I gestured for Yufei to help me and we rolled him onto his stomach, slicing open the back of his robes. But still, there was no soul tag on his spine.

“Are you sure he’s dead?” Wenshu said.

I shook my head. “I didn’t think he was, but why else would his soul be loose?”

Wenshu rolled up his sleeve, offering me his wrist with his own soul tag. “Why don’t you go find out?”

I jammed a hand into my bag, fishing around for firestones. My gaze lingered at the pool of blood by the window.

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