Yirong had a knack for memorizing paths. She mentally rehearsed the route from Landscape Serenity Mirror to the secret door on the western side several times.
Her fingers traced circle after circle on the table. Exhausted in body and mind, she sat back in her chair and drifted off to sleep with her eyes closed.
Shuilian and Xingxiang gently lifted the slumbering Yirong and helped her to the bed, drawing the layered bed curtains around her.
The room fell into cool, serene quiet.
It was so still that the maids dared not make a sound, carefully extinguishing the lamps.
Landscape Serenity Mirror, breathtaking by day, now loomed as dark and empty as an abandoned house.
Meanwhile, in Changming Hall, the candles burned brightly.
Empress Dowager Cui dismissed her two young sisters to bed and shot a glance at the palace maids, ordering them to watch the pair closely and prevent any eavesdropping. Only then did she sigh inwardly and turn to Cui Cheng, whose face was frosty.
Cui Cheng’s shadow blocked half the candlelight as he stood before the sternly seated Empress Dowager Cui. Gnashing his teeth, he said, “A fortune-teller’s verdict? Incompatible fates? An obstacle to Mother?”
As he spoke, two icy glares pierced toward Empress Dowager Cui. He could not fathom how his once gentle and kind sister had become like this.
“Did you know all along?” he demanded again.
Empress Dowager Cui had been prepared ever since learning of their meeting. With a grave expression, she replied, “The Cui family has stood for centuries. Are we to oppose the Emperor over one daughter-in-law?”
“The Cui family has never sold off its women in all those centuries! Sister, even if such a thing never happened before, our ancestors would never have stooped to fawning and pandering like this!”
Empress Dowager Cui said nothing.
“Sister, you and Father and Mother are no better than pimps, selling my wife to—” Before he could finish, she rose and slapped him hard across the face.
“Do you even remember that I’m your own sister?”
“If you weren’t my own sister, I would have struck you down already!” Cui Cheng’s tone was even colder than hers. He pivoted sharply. “If you still see me as your own brother, then tell me: how exactly did Emperor Zhao die?”
Emperor Zhao was the brother of the current sovereign and the husband of Empress Dowager Cui.
Years in the palace had honed her instincts; she immediately grew wary, frowning. “Why do you ask?”
“Tell me.”
For the first time, in the presence of this usually smiling brother of hers, she felt an oppressive, murderous pressure. With a sigh, she said, “I don’t know. That night, he summoned no one. He died peacefully in his sleep—something everyone knows.”
Brother and sister locked eyes, and Cui Cheng looked away, unable to hide his disgust.
Empress Dowager Cui had nothing to do with her husband’s sudden death, yet she had suffered endlessly because of it, even forced to endure the shame of betraying her sister-in-law. Speaking of it stirred her heart as well.
She looked at her brother. “What are you planning?”
There had once been a hushed rumor in the capital that Emperor Zhao had been smothered to death undetected. No one dared mention it after the Emperor arrived with his personal guards.
Yet in the small pavilion, Cui Cheng had suddenly been struck by inspiration regarding that very rumor.
He could not bring weapons to an audience with the Emperor, but arranging a private meeting with attendants dismissed should not be hard. He could wrestle the Emperor into submission and smother him, faking a “sudden death” just like the Previous Emperor’s.
But now, he had a new plan.
“Rise in the name of the Previous Emperor,” Cui Cheng said. “The Emperor murdered his brother and usurped the throne—he is unfit to rule. As the family of the Previous Emperor’s Empress, it falls to us to clean house and enthrone Prince Ning or some young imperial clansman.”
Empress Dowager Cui stared at him in disbelief. “All this just to snatch back a Lu woman?”
“It would bring great benefits to the Cui family as well.” His voice was indifferent. “Sister, if you wish, you could even seize control of the court.”
But Empress Dowager Cui had little interest in that. She had once been the epitome of a refined lady from a great house, which was why she had been chosen as Empress. She knew she lacked the ability—and that what her brother proposed today was far beyond her power to approve or deny.
With a quiet sigh in her heart, she wondered how her brother could harbor such treasonous thoughts.
The Emperor controlled the armies, held absolute power, and had the support of imperial clansmen.
She saw no chance of success in what he described.
“Go speak with Father about it,” said Empress Dowager Cui. “I’ll have someone escort you back. It’s late; you’ve been out long enough and must be tired. Rest well, alright?”
Let Father handle his discipline. She wanted no more part in it.
Cui Cheng nodded and took his leave.
These matters required careful planning; they could not be rushed.
–
The Emperor had learned of Lu Yirong’s meeting with her ex-husband last night and flew into a rage.
When the boat reached shore, she had refused to return to Central Harmony Hall with him, chattering about the risk of being spotted en route and rejecting his palace servants’ escort.
It was a small thing, so he had agreed.
He never imagined she would meet Cui Cheng!
If he had not recalled her deep concern for her reputation—and if the Cui family had not wisely whisked Cui Cheng away—he would have ordered the man’s immediate execution in his anger.
He could do nothing about the past.
At the time of their marriage, he had been in some frozen wasteland tending horses. It was his own fault for initially misjudging and not bringing her straight to the palace.
But the thought of her meeting her ex-husband—of her possibly confiding in him with tears, letting him kiss or hold her—set his heart ablaze. He longed to grab his sword that instant, slay Cui Cheng, and ensure she could never pine for her old flame again, devoting herself wholly to him.
At first, he had wanted to drag her to his sleeping chambers that very night but realized it would be too reckless and held back.
He allowed her one peaceful night.
That morning, as usual, he convened a small court assembly with the ministers. Returning to his chambers, he swept his gaze around: only the palace servants stood there, heads bowed demurely. No other soul in sight.
Just as it had been when he left.
The Emperor gave a cold chuckle. He had not sent for her, and she had not come to beg forgiveness.
He sat at his desk, expressionless as he skimmed a book for a while, his eyes gradually drifting beyond the pages. Abruptly, the Emperor hurled the book aside. “Go bring her here,” he commanded.
His tone was still even.
High Minister Gao knew the Emperor was seething inside. The previous times he had summoned Madam Lu, the order had been to “escort her here.” Naturally, he would not go himself but had quietly advised Yirong upon her entry not to provoke the Emperor further.
Yirong woke that day realizing her maids had carried her from the chair to the bed the night before. After an unusually sound sleep, she gazed at the exceptionally bright sunlight outside the window, wondering if it had all been a dream.
From her entry into the palace and encounter with the Emperor to everything today—it was all a dream. A blink, and she would awaken to her former stable, happy life.
But then yesterday’s memories crashed over her like a tidal wave.
She had half-resigned herself by now, yet her husband’s—or rather, ex-husband’s—stubborn devotion made her prop her chin on her hand in thought.
Cui Cheng’s plan to assassinate the Emperor was unfeasible.
She could not keep relying on others.
Previously, she had imagined that if her mother were lucid, she could guide her on what to do. Yesterday, she had even entertained Cui Cheng’s suggestion and considered fleeing with him.
But none of that would work.
In the emperor’s presence, she refused to implicate or burden anyone else.
That left only her to find a way out herself.
Yirong frowned in thought for a long while until a maidservant came to report that the emperor had summoned her.
It must be that he intended to take her to task.
As she walked along the garden path, the once mild sunlight suddenly turned scorching. Yirong’s brows furrowed even tighter.
She had already tried feigning illness, threatening suicide, pretending to be blinded by greed just to disgust him, and even lecturing him on grand principles to convince him to take a proper lady from a noble house. None of it had worked. The emperor was utterly impervious.
It seemed only that time she deliberately repulsed him had had some effect.
But that trick wouldn’t work anymore. No sooner had she stepped into the inner hall than the emperor’s gaze—sharp as twin blades of frost—fixed coldly upon her. Yirong curtsied under the weight of that stare, and the emperor’s voice rang out, laced with mockery.
“Yesterday, you went boating with Zhen and agreed to enter the palace. And not long after, you met with your ex-husband. Lu Yirong, you truly have some nerve.”
He enunciated each word deliberately, biting down hard on “ex-husband.”
Seeing her silent, the emperor grew even more incensed and was about to berate her further when Yirong lifted her eyes. “Your Majesty, my meeting with Cui Cheng yesterday was pure chance. We didn’t arrange it or seek each other out on purpose.”
She pivoted sharply. “On the contrary, Your Majesty, you yourself said before that you wouldn’t have anyone follow me!”
Yirong stared straight at the emperor.
He rose from behind the desk and approached her step by step, his footfalls echoing clearly in the vast hall, empty now save for the two of them.
He halted just a single pace away, tilting his head slightly downward. His pitch-black, fathomless eyes locked onto hers without blinking.
The oppressive aura crashed over her like a wave.
It stemmed not only from his innate imperial authority but also from the stern, battle-hardened dominance of a man who had frequented the fields of war. Yirong heard the emperor’s voice rumble above her.
“If Zhen had truly sent someone to follow you, We would have chopped off his head the moment you met.”
The Imperial Retreat Palace was his domain. Though the emperor hadn’t set anyone to tail Yirong specifically, some palace servants had still reported the incident.
Yirong shuddered. In the clash of their gazes, she clearly saw the icy blaze of fury in his eyes.
Both of them wanted the other dead.
“What did you say to Cui Cheng yesterday?” the emperor demanded.
Of course, she had no intention of telling the truth. She shook her head. “Nothing much. We just ran into each other and exchanged a few idle words.”
That scorching rage from yesterday reignited in his chest. The emperor’s expression remained impassive as he said coolly, “Was it Cui Cheng swearing oaths to elope with you, or did he dare plot regicide?”
Her heart jolted. She fought desperately to keep her composure, not letting a trace of guilty fluster show on her face.
But the emperor was six years her senior. He had witnessed countless bloody intrigues and overt schemes in the palace, and dealt with traitors in the army. One look at her tense face told him he had hit at least partly on the mark.
He pinched Yirong’s chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Or perhaps, like the rest of the Cui family, he was all too eager to send you right into Zhen’s bed?”
Yirong caught the sarcasm in his tone. Her mind raced, and she decided to confess only the lesser offense. “He said he was willing to flee the Capital City with me, to live incognito from then on, never to trouble Your Majesty’s sight.”
She wondered if she should add that she hadn’t agreed—that she had talked him out of it and made him abandon the idea. If she could just dispel the emperor’s suspicions for now, she could worry about the future later…
The emperor’s words cut through her thoughts. “Live incognito, never troubling Zhen’s sight?”
He stared at Yirong’s face.
“If you truly wish to leave, you may,” the emperor said flatly. “So long as you do as Zhen commands.”
What?
Yirong’s first instinct was disbelief. How could the emperor have changed his mind so suddenly and agreed to let her go?
Was it because of her meeting with Cui Cheng? Had it pushed the emperor to the point where he could no longer tolerate her, losing all interest?
Doubts swirled in her mind, but a spark of hope flickered to life unbidden.
Yirong didn’t even notice how her eyes lit up in that instant.
They shone with startling brilliance.
That radiant gaze pierced the emperor’s heart like a needle.
“What does Your Majesty command?” Yirong asked evenly.
The emperor sneered inwardly. As if he would truly let her go. Her calculated reaction only fueled his rage further, his fingers trembling faintly even as his face remained as still as a placid lake.