No sooner had she spoken than the Emperor paused, his hands still caressing her cheeks. Casually, he asked, “Mm, how do you want to deal with her?”
Yirong frowned in dissatisfaction.
She didn’t like the Emperor’s nonchalant attitude, as if what she had said was some trivial matter.
Propping her chin on her hand, Yirong sat up halfway and pondered for a moment before saying, “Let her stay here at the Imperial Retreat Palace—keep her here forever, so she can never return to the Capital City. And make her come up with her own reason for staying.”
“That’s it?” The Emperor raised an eyebrow slightly.
She felt this was already a severe punishment. “Is that not enough?”
“It’s fine,” he agreed promptly.
If she had asked him to kill Lady Cui outright, that truly wouldn’t have been appropriate. Not only was Lady Cui his sister-in-law, but she had also helped him in the past. Keeping her at the Retreat Palace was no big deal.
After Zheng Yan agreed, he watched as a smile bloomed on Yirong’s face, and he couldn’t help but let his own lips curve upward.
Yirong said, “Then have Eunuch Gao pass on the order tomorrow, and make sure everyone in the Imperial Retreat Palace knows about it right away. That way, she won’t go begging others for mercy and get you to change your mind.”
He felt a sudden bafflement and chuckled. “Why would Lady Cui come begging me for mercy?”
“You send someone first thing tomorrow morning,” Yirong insisted, refusing to go along with his words.
Hearing her soft, pleading voice, so insistent on handling the matter quickly, Zheng Yan felt a flicker of confusion. But with her gazing at him like that, he said, “Just have someone pass the order yourself whenever you want.”
Yirong smiled. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”
The beauty’s smile lit up her face, radiant as dewdrops on a pearl beneath the dim gauze canopy.
“Were you close to her before?” the Emperor asked casually.
“Not at all,” Yirong replied, her smile vanishing instantly.
In truth, they had been quite close.
Just thinking back to the time before the Emperor had formally ascended the throne—when she alone had gone to visit Empress Dowager Cui—made Yirong feel she had been utterly foolish. Back then, she had felt endless pity for her newly widowed sister…
Without the Emperor in the picture, their relationship as kin might have remained cordial on the surface. But she had never truly mattered to Empress Dowager Cui.
She had taken others’ fleeting shows of kindness too seriously.
Seeing her pout after speaking, her expression both adorable and lively, the Emperor murmured, “Enough about her. Handle it yourself tomorrow.”
He leaned down and captured her lips.
Yirong closed her eyes, yielding to the Emperor’s kiss. That entire contrived conversation now struck her as strange and laughable.
Times had changed, just like that.
Those jumbled thoughts soon faded from her mind. Their heartbeats, pressed so close together, nearly drowned out the intimate sounds of their kiss.
A long while later, Yirong lay on the soft pillow, steadying her breath. “Your Majesty, I want to go out for a walk. The Imperial Physician checks my pulse every day, and he’s said for the past few days that I’m perfectly healthy. I’m truly recovered now—let Shuilian and the others accompany me for some fresh air.”
The Emperor murmured his assent.
She let out a complete sigh of relief.
Moments later, Shuilian and Xingxiang came to help the still-trembling Yirong to the Pure Bathing Chamber for a fresh bath. After a few steps, she sensed a lingering gaze from behind.
Turning her head, she saw the Emperor, draped in a light cyan robe, half-reclining on the bed. The candlelight flickered, and when she looked back, he flashed a smile.
Yirong quickly turned away.
Shuilian whispered for Yirong to lean on her—it would feel better that way.
Once the tension eased, exhaustion washed over Yirong. She nearly dozed off in the bath barrel and fought to keep her eyes open on the way back. The moment her head touched the pillow, she was asleep.
The next morning, as usual, the Emperor went to the minor court assembly. Yirong summoned Gao Fuliang and, beaming, ordered him to deliver the decree to Empress Dowager Cui’s residence.
The eunuch bowed in acknowledgment, preparing to go himself, then respectfully reminded her that if she planned to go out, she should bring more attendants.
She agreed and sat in the hall, waiting for news.
About half an hour later, Xingxiang returned to report that the news had spread throughout the Retreat Palace: Empress Dowager Zhaoyi would pray for the Previous Emperor and would not return to the Capital City with the others. She would convert a room in her sleeping palace into a small Buddhist chapel and devote herself to quiet cultivation and prayer there.
Yirong waved Xingxiang away, a flash of satisfaction crossing her heart.
But that satisfaction faded in an instant. She resolved not to think of anything related to the Cui Family ever again.
Once she returned to her hometown, she could pretend she had never gone to the Capital City, never met Cui Cheng, never married into the Cui Family, and never caught the Emperor’s eye.
She took her midday meal alone. Exhausted from the night before, she slept longer than usual that afternoon—fully the time it took to burn one incense stick—before rising. It was the hottest part of the day, with only a few uncaptured cicadas crying feebly now and then before falling silent, no doubt caught by the young maids.
After sitting idly for a bit, Yirong told Shuilian to accompany her for a stroll. The other maids pleaded with her to at least bring one more person.
Pretending to think it over, she selected Xingxiang.
In addition, four young maids trailed diligently behind the three of them.
Unable to refuse, the group set off in a leisurely procession from Central Harmony Hall. Not wanting anyone to see her emerging from the Emperor’s chambers, Yirong took a side path through the Landscape Serenity Mirror before stepping out.
It had been so long since she had walked outside that even a little green worm scurrying across the ground seemed endearing.
Xingxiang held an umbrella over her, while Shuilian fanned her at her side. Yirong walked slowly at first, sending one young maid back to bring in a pot of orchids she had moved outside that morning, lest they wither in the sun.
A little later, she sent another to inform the kitchens that she wanted Rice Wine Duck and Hibiscus Pork for dinner.
The Secret Door was on the western side of the Retreat Palace, next to a large Bitter Neem Grove. Yirong made an excuse about wanting to gather some fallen bark to use as insect repellent and headed west.
She was full of enthusiasm, and no one questioned her—or dared to.
The area was quite remote, far from Central Harmony Hall. After walking most of the way, Yirong saw that the two young maids were flushed red in the face. Gently, she said, “You’re still young—why don’t you rest in that pavilion over there and wait for me? No need to follow.”
She pointed to a nearby pavilion for them to take a break.
“It’s no trouble,” she added.
The two young maids thanked her gratefully and obediently went to sit in the pavilion.
The closer she got to the Secret Door she knew of, the more anxious Yirong felt. She had never seen exactly where it was, nor did she know if she could open it successfully.
Most crucially, she still needed to shake off Xingxiang.
Her pouch held several hefty gemstones, and with the jewelry in her hair, it should be more than enough to bribe her way all the way to the Capital City…
Yirong halted and instructed, “Wait here for me. I want to walk alone for a bit.”
Xingxiang smiled. “Madam, it’s best to have someone with you. That way, if you need anything, we can tend to it right away.”
Yirong had anticipated this. Smiling, she replied, “Then let Shuilian walk with me. You wait here.”
Xingxiang had sensed something off all along. Madam Lu was easy to serve and rarely sent people on errands, let alone for such minor tasks.
Six people had set out with her, and now only two remained.
And now she wanted to send Xingxiang away too.
If anything happened to Madam Lu because of this, it would mean the end for her!
This unusual behavior clearly meant Madam Lu had a plan.
Xingxiang smiled. “Madam, let this servant come along too. If any rude person appears, I can protect you.”
Yirong frowned. “What rude person could there be in the Retreat Palace?”
Xingxiang dropped to her knees, blocking Yirong’s path and kowtowing. “This servant knows you like your quiet, but I truly dare not leave your side.”
Before Yirong could help her up, a voice called from afar: “What a grand air!”
Yirong looked toward the sound and saw her cousin Qiao Miao’e and the Cui Family’s eldest young madam escorting a stunningly beautiful young woman toward her, followed by a gaggle of brightly dressed maids.
It was Qiao Miao’e who had spoken, her eyes glaring at Yirong as if they might spit fire. Her former sister-in-law’s face immediately stiffened, while Pei Jingqi, whose arm they had been holding, looked embarrassed and quickly pulled away.
She had come to the palace today to pay respects to the Grand Princess and had run into the two of them on the way. They had invited her to stroll together.
Pei Jingqi curtsied to Yirong, who returned the gesture with a smile.
How had these three ended up together?
“Lu Yirong, you’re living it up here at the Retreat Palace—strolling the gardens, scolding your maids,” Qiao Miao’e sneered.
Xingxiang rose and stood protectively at Yirong’s side, saying sternly, “Please mind your words, miss.”
Pei Jingqi smiled, trying to smooth things over. “Aren’t we strolling the gardens too? We’ve said hello—shall we go?”
She smiled at Yirong, puzzled by the brewing argument and not wanting to get involved.
“Eldest Miss Pei, you’re just the person to judge this,” Qiao Miao’e said, her eyes reddening. “My dear cousin stole my fiancé before, divorced him in less than two years, and now her ex-husband has vanished without a trace. Tell me, isn’t she behind it? Isn’t she out to harm me?”
Before the arranged meeting, she had never laid eyes on Cui Cheng. She neither liked nor disliked him; she was simply furious that he had taken a fancy to Yirong, who was merely residing in their household at the time. Later, upon seeing the handsome Cui Cheng in person—and with her own marriage negotiations dragging on without success afterward—she completely overlooked the fact that such meetings did not always lead to a match. Her hatred for Yirong only deepened.
Pei Jingqi said nothing, merely shaking her head.
Yirong let out a cold laugh. “What sort of tricks could I possibly pull? What, you already burst in and struck me once before—do you want more?”
At the time, she had still been living with the Qiao family. Before she could even react, someone had desperately blocked her, preventing her from laying a finger on Qiao Miao’e.
Qiao Miao’e shrieked, “You deserved it! And you have the nerve to bring up what happened before? Lu Yirong, you deserve to be divorced—you deserve having Cui Cheng cast you aside!”
Yirong frowned. With so many people present, she feared she wouldn’t be able to leave today.
She had finally managed to get out for once—how terribly unlucky!
Her gaze swept the area, searching for the secret door that should be nearby. There ought to be a small brown mark on it…
Seeing that Yirong was ignoring her, Qiao Miao’e shook off the hand of the Cui family’s eldest young madam, who was gripping her tightly. In a few quick strides, she planted herself in front of Yirong and demanded, “Where is Cui Cheng?”
A few days earlier, her mother had mentioned that the Cui family was interested in arranging another marriage. Qiao Miao’e had no desire to wed her cousin’s former husband, but she hadn’t even been given the chance to refuse.
Rumor had it outside that Cui Cheng had left behind a family severance letter before vanishing without a trace. The Cui family members remained tight-lipped about the whole affair.
Impatiently, Yirong snapped, “What does it have to do with you?”
Pei Jingqi frowned at the eldest young madam, whose expression was fraught with anxiety yet who remained utterly silent. Stepping forward, she tried to mediate. “Come now, a divorce simply means neither party was at fault. It’s getting late—Miss Qiao, you should head back.”
Qiao Miao’e, still fuming, barely registered her words, much less heeded them. She took another step forward, glaring at Yirong with venom.
With her paternal clan far away in Jiangnan and no husband’s family now that she was divorced, Yirong’s position was even more precarious than when she had been living under Qiao Miao’e’s roof.
New grudges and old hatreds surged to the forefront of Qiao Miao’e’s mind all at once. She raised her hand high.
A crisp slap rang out.
Yirong stared in utter shock at Xingxiang’s swaying back. The other woman had swiftly positioned herself in front of her.