After I Was Widowed, I Raised the Child of the Man Who Killed My Husband

The day her husband was killed by the imperial family, Shen Yunzhi fled the capital with her enemy’s newborn child in her arms.

Everyone thought she was just a pitiful widow running a teahouse in a border town, coughing blood into her handkerchief.

No one knew that secret messages from the underground network were flying to every corner of the realm from the back room of that shabby teahouse. With her own hands, she paved a bone-strewn path to the throne for her enemy’s son, all so that one day he could pierce his birth father’s heart with his own hand.

Until, eighteen years later, an army broke through the capital.

The child she had raised into a wise ruler trampled the old emperor underfoot. Dressed in white mourning clothes, she walked into the Golden Hall against the light and threw the truth of his birth in his face. “The man standing before you is your birth father. I raised you for eighteen years for this very day.”

His eyes reddened. He drove a blade into his shoulder to repay the blood he owed her. “This wound repays the bloodline you gave me. I am Shen Yunzhi’s son.”

Behind her, the enemy nation’s hostage, a man who wielded power over the world and had once held a blade to her throat on a stormy night, drew his sword and stepped in front of her.

His blade pointed straight at the throne.

“If you don’t dare acknowledge her, get out of this hall. I’ll protect her.”