Under the twilight glow, the entire Imperial Retreat Palace was draped in a hazy veil of light and shadow, dim and indistinct.
The second young lady of the Cui Family had clearly seen the expressions on her brother and sister-in-law’s faces. She tugged at her third sister, who had been stunned speechless by the awkward scene, and said, “We’ll take our leave first.”
The two hurried away like the wind, vanishing from sight in moments.
Yirong gazed at the familiar, handsome face before her—a face she had kissed and caressed countless times. She dug her nails fiercely into her palm, her lips trembling for a long while before she finally whispered, “I…”
Cui Cheng watched her in silence, then abruptly seized her hand and strode forward.
A row of small pavilions stood not far away. Cui Cheng shoved open the door to the nearest one, then locked it heavily behind them. His face was darker than she had ever seen it.
He uttered only four words: “You and the Emperor?”
No wonder the woman’s figure on the boat had seemed so familiar at the time. But Cui Cheng had never once imagined it could be Lu Yirong. The thought had flickered through his mind for only an instant before he dismissed it outright.
Now, every strange detail fell into place. The identical shoes on her feet were ironclad proof. That was why his family had seized the opportunity during his absence to prepare the divorce papers and pressured him with the unassailable excuse that filial piety came above all else.
To think it was her… and the Emperor.
Yirong closed her eyes briefly and nodded.
So the Cui Family had told him after all.
That single gentle motion instantly ignited the fury blazing in Cui Cheng’s heart.
His eyes turned bloodshot as the fragile thread of reason in his mind snapped. Recalling the intimate scene he had witnessed at the Primordial Pool not long ago, he lunged forward without a word and tore at Yirong’s collar.
“Don’t do this… Please, listen to me…”
Her trembling, pleading voice gradually pulled Cui Cheng back from the edge of madness. Before him stretched a expanse of snow-white skin, pure and unblemished, bearing not the slightest trace of the sordid betrayal he had envisioned.
He froze, then quietly helped Yirong straighten her clothes. Staring at her tear-streaked face, he asked in a stiff tone, “When did it start?”
Before she could reply, Cui Cheng pressed on. “He forced you, didn’t he?”
“Tell me!”
Cui Cheng ground his teeth, awaiting her answer.
In Yirong’s silence, his heart plummeted deeper into an abyss.
A suffocating weight filled his chest. He clenched his fist and smashed it into the desk beside him. The wooden piece splintered and collapsed with a resounding crash.
Amid the scattering wood chips, Yirong said softly, “Don’t ask any more. Don’t trouble yourself with me.”
The bloodshot eyes before her held none of their usual playful ease. Word by word, he declared, “If you won’t tell me the truth, then I really am a thorough fool.”
Yirong’s eyes had run dry of tears. After a moment of silence, she murmured, “Do you remember? There was that time I caught a cold. That very day, Your Majesty spoke to me several times in the palace. I was terrified of entering the palace again, so I deliberately chilled myself with ice…”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Cui Cheng demanded loudly.
In the grip of extreme rage, his features twisted into something almost frightening.
She replied softly all the same. “It was just a few words. What could you and I have done about it?”
“And afterward?” he pressed.
Yirong fell silent for a moment, then recounted every detail of what had transpired with the Emperor since then.
When she finished, she could not bear to meet Cui Cheng’s gaze.
Cui Cheng gasped for air, nearly clutching at his chest. It took him a long while to fully absorb her words.
“You’re saying my parents and sister knew from the start?”
His eyes seemed to weep blood, the disbelief crashing over him again and again. Unbelievable!
She nodded gently once more.
“Why didn’t you tell me, Rongrong? Why?”
Yirong’s lips curved into a bitter smile. “I didn’t dare. I feared that if I told you, you’d charge at the Emperor in a fit of rage and lose your life. I also dreaded what the household might do if they learned of it—send me to the family temple for lifelong confinement, or perhaps let me ‘quietly fade away’…”
She trailed off. Those days of living in constant terror had been too agonizing to bear alone.
Cui Cheng’s heart shuddered fiercely at her words. Without a second thought, he drew her into his arms.
In mere moments, her tears fell heavily onto his clothes and skin.
He kissed her temples and earlobes in a frenzy, murmuring apologies. “Rongrong, it’s my fault. My fault. I shouldn’t have lashed out at you.”
Yirong shook her head in his embrace.
“How could you be so foolish… If I’d known, how could I have abandoned you to my parents’ mercy?” Fury blazed in Cui Cheng’s eyes. “I hate that I didn’t protect you sooner—that I was fool enough to believe the Emperor was some upright gentleman! Had you told me earlier, I would’ve arranged an official post elsewhere right away and taken you with me!”
They clung to each other for a moment before Cui Cheng pulled back, his voice urgent with excitement. “Rongrong, come away with me. We’ll leave the Capital City behind. What do you say to Yue Prefecture?”
He shook her shoulders firmly.
Yirong’s heart leaped, though hesitation lingered.
“You don’t want to?” Cui Cheng fixed his gaze on her face.
Suddenly, Yirong threw her arms around him and sobbed uncontrollably. In that instant, regret mingled with all her bottled-up emotions—grief, rage, hatred—pouring forth in a torrent.
Cui Cheng crushed her to him, his eyes swirling with fury, cold detachment, and aching tenderness for the woman in his arms.
He could not truly blame her.
She had done nothing wrong.
Stroking her hair, Cui Cheng asked again, “Well? The two of us will change our names and make a life in the south—or wherever you wish. I’ll provide for you.”
Yirong’s heart, numb and resigned until then, stirred back to life.
Overwhelmed with emotion, she nodded vigorously, at a loss for words.
But another thought struck her, and in her hoarse, tear-ravaged voice, she asked, “What about your parents? What about my mother?”
Cui Cheng replied coldly, “If they want to grovel at the Emperor’s feet like dogs, let them.”
“As for your mother, I’ll have friends keep a discreet eye on her in the Capital City for now. Once we’re settled, we’ll bring her to join us.” Even as he spoke, Cui Cheng hesitated.
Escaping the Imperial Retreat Palace with Yirong would be immensely difficult. There might be laxly guarded spots within the grounds, but the gates were bristling with soldiers.
He did know of a secret door on the west side, however, and he quickly whispered the details into Yirong’s ear.
Her mother’s frail health remained a major concern, though.
Cui Cheng frowned in concentration for a moment, his heart still racing, then declared abruptly, “I need to see the Emperor.”
The humiliation of a stolen wife was an outrage beyond measure, even for a lukewarm marriage.
All the more so when she was the woman he longed to cherish for life.
Youth and impulsiveness fueled Cui Cheng’s rage after hearing Yirong’s full account; he burned to storm the Emperor’s chambers and end him then and there.
Yirong paled in alarm and wrapped her arms around his waist, lifting her tear-streaked face. “What do you intend to do by seeing him?”
“To beg him,” Cui Cheng said, forcing his tone to steadiness while bottling his seething wrath.
“No!” Yirong cried, shock and fear seizing her as she moved to stop him.
Cui Cheng gave a faint smile. “Afraid he’ll kill me?”
She nodded. “Don’t go. The Emperor… he won’t let you live.”
As the words left her lips, Yirong sensed something amiss.
She had been married to Cui Cheng for nearly two years and knew him intimately. A flicker of instinctive doubt had arisen the moment he mentioned seeing the Emperor. Now, scrutinizing him, her heart pounded wildly.
A dark, feverish excitement lurked in Cui Cheng’s eyes.
Killing intent, too.
She furrowed her brows despite herself.
It was not that Yirong underestimated him—the Emperor was shielded by untold Imperial Guards, and no outside officials were permitted weapons in his presence.
Moreover, the Emperor himself was a seasoned commander, adept at leading troops into battle.
Cui Cheng squeezed her hand. “Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing. Once it’s over—after I’ve made my plea to the Emperor—we’ll go.”
Yirong’s alarm deepened at his increasingly unnatural demeanor. She racked her brain for a way to dissuade him.
She could not let Cui Cheng throw his life away for her sake.
Even if he succeeded against the odds, the Zheng Royal Clan’s first act upon seizing power would be to execute him—followed by her and every last one of the Cui Family’s hundred-odd souls.
Confronting him outright and urging him to abandon the notion would only make things worse.
The more frantic she grew, the more her thoughts scattered. At a loss, she said, “Then I’ll go with you.”
Before Cui Cheng could respond, she rushed on. “We’ll plead with him together. I won’t have peace otherwise!”
Cui Cheng eyed her for a long moment, then nodded. “All right.”
Yirong exhaled in relief, mustering a small smile for him. Gently, meticulously, Cui Cheng drew a handkerchief from her sleeve and wiped the tears from her face.
The calmer he appeared, the more her heart quailed. She prayed fervently that the Emperor would refuse them audience.
They exchanged a few more words. Then Cui Cheng pushed open the door. Night had deepened, the moonlight spilling like water. Ahead on the corridor stood ranks of martial guards and servants bearing torches and palace lanterns, their faces stern and solemn.
The flames danced in the night breeze, shadows shifting restlessly.
Cui Cheng’s expression darkened in an instant.
The second young lady pushed through the crowd, skirts hiked as she hurried to his side. In a low voice, she said, “Sixth Brother, don’t blame me. Third Sister and I only told Big Sister that you and Sixth Sister-in-law had a chance encounter. She insisted on sending all these people to escort you back.”
The young girl tiptoed once more to peer at Yirong, who was still inside the room, her face full of bewilderment.
As she spoke, the stern-faced subordinates of Empress Dowager Cui closed in. Two martial guards swiftly circled behind Cui Cheng, discreetly pressing knives against his waist and back, urging him to hurry along.
Cui Cheng had never been threatened like this in his life. Just then, the lead palace maid chimed in at the perfect moment. “Sixth Young Master, please go quickly. The Empress Dowager has urgent business with you.”
From behind him, Yirong urged as well. “You go on ahead.”
He clenched his fists, suddenly realizing he could assassinate the Emperor without her, freeing him to act without restraint. Plus, there was that major matter he needed to question his dear sister about face-to-face. He turned back to Yirong, mouthing “Don’t worry” before striding forward.
The second young miss of the Cui family glanced curiously back at Yirong one more time before leaving.
Once they had all gone, Lv Zhu—the palace maid familiar to Yirong—knelt and kowtowed to her at the doorway. Her voice was deferential as she said, “Madam, the Empress Dowager has instructed this servant to remind you: you promised her you would not see the Sixth Young Master again. Please keep your word.”
Yirong stared at the back of her head and let out a light laugh. “Does the Empress Dowager really think I agreed because I fear her?”
The wind stretched her words out, making them echo emptily into the distance.
“Lv Zhu, you should know that if I wished it, the balance of power between her and me could be turned completely upside down.”
“And that is all thanks to her.”
She spoke each word deliberately, feeling a slight easing in her chest. Gazing at Lv Zhu, who had lifted her head with a look of stunned alarm, Yirong said no more.
These past few days, her emotions had been numb with panic, culminating today in a whirlwind of sorrow and joy. After such ups and downs, she returned to her quarters feeling utterly drained.
Yirong ate a tasteless dinner, rested briefly, sipped two mouthfuls of sweet fruit cordial, and then began pondering the secret door Cui Cheng had mentioned.
The previous dynasty had not lasted long, yet its final emperor had launched massive construction projects everywhere, building imperial retreats and separate courtyards. By the time this particular retreat palace was erected, the entire nation was in turmoil, and the dynasty teetered on the brink of collapse.
One of the builders had secretly left a hidden escape route for himself, crafting a concealed door.
Nearly a century had passed since then. Cui Cheng had learned of it years ago by sheer chance from an elderly palace servant whose ancestors had worked on the retreat’s construction.
Bored at the time, he had even tested the mechanism himself and confirmed it worked.