Fengluan Palace was situated high up, unlike the low-lying Zichen Side Hall, which required ascending some steps to enter.
The interior held none of the decay and antiquity Yun Jichu had imagined, nor did any oppressive aura assail her upon entry.
On the contrary, the palace’s furnishings were opulent, with exquisitely carved beams and painted rafters, utterly free of dust.
Light gauze curtains swayed gracefully, hibiscus petals swirled in the air, and a faint, elegant lotus fragrance wafted into her nostrils.
Yun Jichu parted the gauze curtain and spotted a clumsy tiger plush doll on the inner side of the bed—identical to the Little Princess’s, as if they formed a pair.
The lantern in her hand trembled faintly, and Yun Jichu froze.
So the Princess’s doll, washed to faded threads with buttons resewn countless times, was her “relic”?
No wonder it had felt so familiar—this was the item from the game inventory back then!
A gift for fully recharging her account, one that boosted favorability when given away.
She hadn’t given it much thought at the time—just a pair of silly, ugly little tigers. She’d handed them over to Helian Jin with her eyes shut.
The bedding was pristine and invitingly soft. If Yun Jichu hadn’t known Fengluan Palace was a forbidden wing of the imperial grounds, she might have assumed someone slipped in for secret naps every few days.
Yun Jichu let the curtain fall and made her way to the desk. In the dim moonlight, she glimpsed numerous paintings adorning the walls, alongside stacks of long cylindrical cases beside the desk.
She approached slowly, the breath she’d been holding suddenly lodging in her chest.
These were…
She tilted her head back.
The vast space brimmed with paintings of every size, as though waves of mournful cries and shouts flooded Yun Jichu’s ears.
Yet the grand hall remained utterly silent.
Only Yun Jichu’s own stifled, trembling breaths broke the quiet.
These were…
Her former self, alongside Helian Jin.
Her fingers could scarcely grip the small lantern. She thrust it forward, illuminating canvas after canvas, every detail laid bare.
In the deep night, she gazed tearfully at the moon, cradled in Helian Jin’s arms.
Amid perfect spring weather, she savored grapes—now lifting her head to admire the blossoms, now hunching over sketches of paper kites.
In the hush of a summer dusk, she dozed in the waterside pavilion, oblivious to the wind rumpling her drawing paper nearby.
On a chill autumn night, she held a fallen leaf to a crystal lamp, scrutinizing it intently.
Through swirling winter snow, Helian Jin enfolded her in his greatcloak as they stood outdoors, only her eyes peeking out, curved in a delighted smile at the flakes.
~~~
This realm was a grand convocation of memories.
So very many—Yun Jichu examined them one by one as the lantern’s flame dimmed, its oil nearly spent.
Her recollections flickered in tandem, bright then dark.
Those dust-shrouded dreams wove together with the paintings before her. A soft night breeze stirred the hall, and Yun Jichu realized her robe’s front was chilled and damp.
She wiped haphazardly at her tears.
Truth be told, she’d forgotten many scenes from those paintings.
She even began to question it.
Had she, a few years prior, truly known such carefree joy?
It didn’t suit her. She ought to be wooden and tight-lipped, dull and tedious—as they all claimed.
The lantern sputtered weaker still. Yun Jichu cupped her palm around it, willing the flame to linger just a little longer.
The desk was heaped high yet meticulously ordered.
No need to rummage through them—Yun Jichu knew each held portraits of her.
She stepped lightly closer. A lotus-embroidered cushion draped the grand armchair nearby, while the desk bore unused vermilion inks and brushes.
The palace never felt wholly at rest; its fragrant warmth eased the spirit upon entry.
To the desk’s right lay a golden butterfly hairpin, flanked by cryptic scribbles and doodles Yun Jichu couldn’t decipher. She leaned in for a closer look.
A butterfly hovered on the verge of flight, its wing veins rendered in exquisite detail—though dulled now, like a jagged stone submerged in a stream, worn smooth and lusterless by ceaseless waters into a rounded pebble.
The scrawled words on the paper eluded her; she vaguely made out Funan and Kangtai amid the mess, though all were heavily crossed out.
Yun Jichu clasped the butterfly hairpin in her palm.
It still seemed to hold Helian Jin’s warmth.
The small lantern faltered at last, flaring once in defiance before plunging into darkness, its glow wavering on the brink.
Yun Jichu shielded the dying ember and turned to depart.
Her sleeve brushed something loose in passing.
She dropped to a crouch at once, lantern in hand, patting the floor in search.
At last, beneath the incense table by the window, she found the little box.
Palm-sized and redolent of wood, its surface bore engraved runes—her fingertips traced their jagged depths, evoking an eerie chill.
What could it be?
Yun Jichu sensed it tied to her somehow, yet she hadn’t a clue.
Sizzle—
The lantern snuffed out.
Yun Jichu set it aside with a sigh and settled on the spot. By the window’s moonlight, she eased the box open.
Two rings.
“Helian Jin, do you know what you’re still missing?”
“What might that be? Is Ah Chu displeased with the betrothal gifts?”
“Oh dear, no! It’s a ring! The kind with a diamond—that’s what seals our bond for life.”
“What is a diamond? I’ve only heard of setting gemstones like agate into rings. Never diamonds.”
“Diamonds are these transparent, sparkly little stones. But you have to cut and polish them just right to make them shine. Oh, whatever—you’ve definitely never seen one.”
“Diamond…”
“And it has to go on this finger to count.”
With that, she wrapped a strand of Helian Jin’s hair around her ring finger. “See?”
Yet the two rings in the box were just empty settings, the gem mounts vacant, as if awaiting the perfect stones.
“Idiot…” Yun Jichu murmured softly.
Yun Jichu took the smaller ring and slipped it onto her ring finger to test the fit.
Perfect.
“Idiot…” she whispered again.
Her legs had gone numb from squatting so long. Yun Jichu braced herself and struggled to rise, but before she could move, a voice suddenly drifted in.
“Your Majesty?”
“Your Majesty…”
The voice grew nearer.
It was Little Lian. Yun Jichu was about to call out for her to help when she abruptly clapped a hand over her mouth.
How did Little Lian know she was here?
She had sneaked into Fengluan Palace at night—only Lady Shuxiu knew about that.
Lady Shuxiu had warned her just that afternoon not to trust Little Lian completely. She would never have betrayed Yun Jichu’s whereabouts!
So why was Little Lian searching for her?
Yun Jichu’s heart hammered wildly. She ran through a thousand grim possibilities, desperately reassuring herself that Little Lian was just a frail girl. She couldn’t possibly do anything dangerous.
But she was still terrified.
Deep down, this world was far too alien to her. In a mere month and a half, she had spent a full month trembling in fear.
It was pure instinct, then.
She clamped her hand tightly over her mouth, determined not to make a sound.
The footsteps drew closer.
One step. Another.
The sound was familiar to Yun Jichu. In her half-awake haze, Little Lian would pad to the incense table with steps this light to burn the incense.
When Yun Jichu wanted to wander outside, Little Lian would trail after her with footfalls just like these.
Back then, she could scarcely hear them.
But now…
Only as the steps closed in, one after another, did Yun Jichu realize Little Lian’s footfalls weren’t light at all.
They were like a beast lurking in the darkness, its eerie blue eyes the only thing gleaming.
Creeping forward slowly, its shape impossible to discern.
Every step Little Lian took on the golden bricks boomed in Yun Jichu’s ears like snapping twigs and crushing dead leaves.
Yun Jichu thanked her stars she was tucked under the incense table, with a narrow gap behind her leading straight to the window—a space just wide enough for her to squeeze through.
As long as Little Lian didn’t spot her, she could still leap out the window and flee.
She was still thinking that when the footsteps stopped right in front of her.
Yun Jichu went rigid, staring at the encroaching shadow.
From her vantage, she could only see Little Lian from the waist down.
A light green skirt tinged with pale pink, cinched tight to highlight her slender waist. The hem was simple, swaying gently with her stride.
Bathed in moonlight, a cold blade glinted from beneath her waist, peeking from the side of her skirt.
Yun Jichu held her breath. Tears welled silently at the corner of her eye.
A dagger!
Little Lian had come hunting her with a dagger!
The footsteps halted inches away. Under the table, Yun Jichu fixed on the tip of Little Lian’s shoe—the upturned toe still flecked with blood.
The Grand Hall’s lotus fragrance had scattered on the night breeze. Staring at those threads of reddish-brown so close in the wan moonlight, Yun Jichu fought down a surge of nausea.
Fortunately, the footsteps faded. Yun Jichu watched Little Lian patrol the area once before turning away.
Her taut muscles slackened all at once, and she nearly slumped to the floor.
No time to catch her breath—she scrambled along the cramped space beneath the incense table toward the window.
The table was narrow and long, but it had never felt so endless. Almost there!
“Knock knock knock—”
Who was rapping on the incense table?!
Yun Jichu jerked her head around.
At the far end, Little Lian was stooped low, head cocked, grinning wickedly at her. Her swollen cheek bunched her eye into a mere slit.
“Empress.”
“Ah—!”
Yun Jichu screamed and hauled herself out from under the table with every ounce of strength, shoving the window open.
The night wind howled. The sill stood half a person high, with a sheer drop of dozens of feet below—overlooking the pitch-black expanse of the Imperial Garden.
Yun Jichu spun around, her thighs braced against the frigid windowsill.
Her vision whirled in black and white, her breaths coming heavy. Faced with Little Lian advancing relentlessly, she lacked even the strength to run.
She clutched the window frame, nails biting into her palms to force calm, but her limbs grew heavier by the second.
“Little Lian…”
Little Lian’s smile was ghastly. In the moonlight, Yun Jichu saw her eyes brimming with vicious delight.
“Your Majesty, did today’s incense smell good?”
“You… you, the incense inside…”
Yun Jichu’s eyelids grew heavier and heavier as the drowsy numbness washed over her like a rising tide.
Little Lian stood by the incense table, admiring Yun Jichu’s vulnerable state for a moment before giggling. “You and my sister both look just like the Late Empress. So why are you the one who gets to keep on living!”
Yun Jichu bit the tip of her tongue to fight off sleep.
Little Lian raised her dagger. The sharp blade flashed like lightning in the dead of night.
Sching—
The dull sound of the blade slicing through bone echoed.
Yun Jichu’s vision flooded with red. Blood sprayed from Little Lian’s neck, filling the air with a foul stench that completely overwhelmed the faint lotus fragrance lingering in the Grand Hall.
Little Lian remained standing for a moment longer, as if she hadn’t yet accepted the fact of her own death.
A few breaths later, she finally collapsed.
Helian Jin was drenched in blood, his face impossible to make out. The short sword in his hand was wrapped in crimson.
“Ah Chu…”
“Ah!”
The last thread holding Yun Jichu together snapped.
“Don’t come any closer!”
Long-buried memories erupted in her mind.
Vibrant life snuffed out in an instant. Warmth turned to sticky blood, splattered across her face and body.
“Daddy… Mommy…”
Yun Jichu clutched her head and scrambled backward, but there was nowhere left to go.
Her heart suddenly raced, burning through the last traces of the drug in her system. She could hold out no longer. Consciousness slipped away, and she toppled straight backward.
Like a paper kite, she plummeted.
“Ah Chu!”
Thud.
The only response was the clatter of the box hitting the floor, along with the two rings that tumbled out.
~~~
“Yun Jichu, found a job yet? Get on your knees and beg nicely, and maybe I’ll help you out.”
“No messages for days now. What, playing the ice queen?”
Yun Jichu woke up in her bed, burning with a high fever.
“Asshole.”
After spitting out those words, she blocked Yu Ming on every platform and spent the next three hazy days gradually shaking off the fever.
The clock ticked steadily onward. She’d only been back in this world for three days, yet time had somehow jumped ahead an entire month and a half.
Time in the game flowed in sync with the real world.
Yun Jichu picked up her tablet.
-Ding! 《Qingyu Case》 progress updated. View now?
Outside, the night was pitch black. Inside, all the lights were off.
She stared at the message, lost in a daze for a long while.
What was real? What was fake?
She couldn’t tell anymore.
It felt like she’d just returned from a long, perilous journey—full of heart-pounding dangers and unexpected twists, encounters with all sorts of people.
Some of whom she’d parted from without even a proper goodbye.
Yun Jichu tapped the notification.
Ding! Save progress updated.
-Helian Jin Favorability — +∞
-Offspring — Helian Yue (female), Helian Huai (male)
-Wealth — 340 taels
-Items — Unknown
-Reputation — World-famous
-Warning: Male lead data unstable. Save file will be cleared soon!
-Warning: Male lead data unstable. Save file will be cleared soon!
-Warning: Male lead data unstable. Save file will be cleared soon!
~~~
Yun Jichu’s heart clenched at the glaring red alerts. What was wrong with Helian Jin?
She hesitated, then moved her finger.
Soft music chimed, and two options appeared.
-Start New Game
-Continue Playing Save File