Yirong’s head sank into the soft pillow, utterly still.
Upon closer inspection, her chin had sharpened somewhat, her skin like cold jade without a trace of color.
No one knew what she had been wearing before, but now she was dressed in the plain robes of a nun, her eyes tightly shut, her breathing faint.
“Fortunately, she ingested very little of the poison, and it was discovered in time, but the Noble Lady won’t wake for a while yet…”
The imperial physician’s words trailed off.
Silence filled the room, broken only by the chirps of birds and insects outside the window. Suddenly, a fierce wind rose, shaking the door as if it could barely bear the strain. The resounding clamor struck at everyone’s hearts.
The Emperor gazed at her quietly for a long time before leaning down once more to gently tuck the stray locks of dark hair behind her ear.
Only when he turned and rounded the screen did he notice his cousin Pei Jingqi standing in the room, her face etched with concern.
“Jingqi, what are you doing here?” He frowned slightly.
Pei Jingqi stepped forward and curtsied, eyes lowered. “In response to Your Majesty, this subject saw Madam Lu near her own tent.”
She recounted in detail how she had encountered Yirong, what Yirong had said to her, and how she had then run into Cheng Ye. Finally, she presented the most crucial piece of evidence: the water pouch.
The Emperor pondered for a moment. “You have Zhen’s thanks for today. Zhen shall have someone escort you back.”
Pei Jingqi cast a worried glance toward the bed before kneeling to take her leave.
The Emperor instructed the imperial physician and the maids to care for her diligently, then stepped out of the room, his face as somber as a storm cloud.
Cheng Ye knelt before him, kowtowing to beg forgiveness.
“Enough,” the Emperor said. “It was Zhen’s command that you follow at a distance. The fault is not yours. Return immediately to the site of the incident and preserve everything there exactly as it was—people and objects alike.”
Cheng Ye kowtowed once more, eager to make amends, and soon vanished into the royal temple grounds.
The Emperor stared out at the distant fields, black and brooding in the dead of night, silent as a beast poised to devour all.
In a low voice, he commanded, “Have Fan Ying seal off the camp. Tell him and Zheng Ping to investigate who is behind this at once.”
Having given the order, the Emperor turned back to the now-closed door.
Gao Fuliang nodded and bowed obsequiously. “Your Majesty, Little General Cheng was in such a hurry that he had Madam Lu sent directly to Your sleeping quarters. Shall this slave have her moved out?”
“Get out.”
After rebuking him, the Emperor fixed his pitch-black eyes on the pair of sandalwood doors.
From within came the faint bubbling of medicine being decocted, the imperial physician’s instructions to the maid to tuck in the quilt…
He had always believed his inner circle to be impenetrable, yet someone had managed to poison her on the road back to the capital. Who had they bribed?
Zheng Yan’s lips pressed together uneasily.
He shouldn’t have driven her away.
And who was it that wanted her dead so badly? Had they learned of their connection?
The Emperor’s expression remained impassive as he stood in the night breeze for a long while, then ordered the adjacent room prepared.
He sat on the soft couch, his gaze sharp as lightning beneath a crag, fixed on the wall.
As dawn approached, Gao Fuliang attempted to report that Madam Lu in the next room had yet to awaken, but the Emperor cut him off.
“Zhen wants to know who dared administer the poison. No other reports.”
Gao Fuliang had already finished speaking of Madam Lu’s condition when the Emperor interrupted him. He gave an awkward smile.
The imperial procession usually departed at first light, but this day, as the sky began to brighten, the half-asleep nobles and officials learned shocking news: the Emperor would remain here for five days.
This was far from welcome tidings.
In bustling cities, there were always traveling palaces, imperial estates, or commandeered homes—no need to sleep in tents as they had the night before.
After some hushed grumbling, the eunuchs began distributing supplies from the Emperor’s own stores.
Soon, everyone realized leaving the camp had become exceedingly difficult; strict searches were required to pass. Aside from a few summoned by the Emperor, the rest simply stayed put.
By full daylight, the Imperial Guards organized the ministers and their families to seek lodging in nearby homes.
In the process, no one noticed that certain people had mysteriously vanished.
–
The Emperor listened to the report and let out a cold laugh from his throat.
It was her uncle’s family, the Marquis Pingyang’s household, who had done this.
After being scolded, the eldest Qiao daughter had at first been too afraid to reveal what she had done at the traveling palace. But the more she thought, the more puzzled and terrified she became, until she finally confessed to her parents.
The Marquis Pingyang and his wife, who had been trying to learn what misdeed their daughter had committed, puzzled it over briefly and soon pieced it together.
They believed their powerless niece Lu Yirong had gained a powerful backer—the most powerful in the realm.
Though the Qiao family had not yet been fully implicated, the couple recalled the two years Yirong and her mother had lived under their roof.
Their niece had been only fourteen when she arrived in the capital, raised so naively without a shred of guile. At first, her cousins had bullied her mercilessly; only later did she learn to fight back, though she was still tormented by her two elder female cousins.
The couple had never intervened.
Not to mention their son had even spoken of taking her as a concubine.
After the falling out, her husband’s family—the Duke of Qiao State’s mansion—had never troubled them. The Qiao family assumed she had not complained to Cui Cheng, or that the Duke’s household had no desire to break ties over a mere daughter-in-law.
But who could have imagined she had connected with the Emperor after the divorce!
Or perhaps even before…
If she shed tears before the Emperor, his temper would surely erupt— their daughter’s scarred face was proof enough.
Should the Emperor take offense at their house, it would be no mere scolding.
For now, they had to mend fences.
The Pingyang Marquis Mansion had operated for decades and had connections in the palace. Despite spending a fortune to inquire for days, they found no trace of Lu Yirong among the Emperor’s entourage. In desperation, a twist of fate: they learned a stunning beauty had appeared among the lowly palace maids, one who did no work and whose name was unknown.
After verifying through twists and turns, they confirmed it was their niece.
The couple quickly devised a new plan.
Their niece seemed to have angered the Emperor and been punished, but with that face, who knew when she might regain favor.
In the end, Marquis Pingyang decided: on the road back to the capital, where oversight was laxer than at a traveling palace, they would simply kill her outright to prevent future accusations.
Bribing the palace maid proved easier than expected.
Poison her first, then smuggle the body out of camp under cover of night and dump it in the woods.
By the time she was found, the corpse would likely be mangled by wild beasts, impossible to detect poison from—let alone trace back to them.
And who would suspect her own aunt and uncle?
The method was cruel and would damage their karma, but it was necessary to eliminate the threat.
That night, Marquis Pingyang waited anxiously for news, but none came. The palace maid should have reported back after the first watch, yet she never appeared. Nor did the trusted aide he had sent to check.
In the dead of night, Feilin General Fan Ying arrived personally at their tent, his stern, resolute face expressionless.
“Marquis Pingyang, please come with me.”
After interrogation through the night, Fan Ying and the royal kinsman Zheng Ping, who oversaw the prisons, reported the couple’s confession to the Emperor.
The Emperor rubbed the old scar on the web of his thumb, reviewing the events carefully before meeting each man’s eyes in turn.
It had been too easy. Someone else must have paved the way from the shadows.
“Keep investigating.”
Fan Ying and Zheng Ping acknowledged the order. Zheng Ping asked, “Your Majesty, how do you intend to deal with the Qiao family?”
As the Emperor’s uncle, he received a thoughtful reply. “You two have labored through the night—go rest. Zhen shall consider it.”
For anyone to reach into the palace and bribe a maid, no matter the target, meant only one verdict from the Emperor: death. Given Marquis Pingyang’s rank, confiscate all his fiefs and lands as a warning.
But the Qiao family was her maternal clan.
The Emperor massaged his brow.
Zheng Ping’s investigation had been thorough. Though the palace maid in the carriage had lost so much blood she still lay unconscious, the bloodstains and footprints revealed the truth: after drinking the poisoned water, Yirong had endured the agony to shove the poisoner until her head split open and bled. Stumbling from the carriage, she had first encountered Pei Jingqi, then Cheng Ye.
He had gone without sleep all night, his eyes faintly red.
Gao Fuliang urged, “Your Majesty, perhaps you should rest a little.”
The Emperor stared darkly at the wall, as if peering through it to the scene in the next room.
Gao Fuliang murmured, “Madam Lu has yet to awaken. The imperial physician says the remaining poison lingers, but he guarantees she will recover.”
The Emperor said nothing.
After a dead silence, he ordered Zhang Jiaheng and the other ministers summoned for council.
The matter of freeing the Xiling slaves still required discussion, but this time the Emperor decided swiftly. “Draft the decree. Issue it today.”
Zhang Jiaheng, a veteran minister favored since Emperor Xuan’s reign—his imperial father—had long opposed enslaving reclaimed subjects as slaves. Seeing the Emperor change course filled him with joy. “This is a great boon for the realm and its people. Your Majesty’s merit shines brightly. Since we are at Faxuan Temple, why not dedicate the merit to the Buddha and Empress Dowager Pei?”
The Emperor smiled faintly and nodded.
After court dispersed, he led his eunuchs to the hall of incense.
The air was thick with curling smoke, lamps burning steadily.
Paper and brush presented, the Emperor wrote “Disciple Zheng Yan” before pausing.
He did not believe in gods or Buddhas.
Yet issuing the decree early was partly to let his mother know, and partly a bid for blessings to protect another.
He changed the name, then thought a proxy lacked sincerity.
The Emperor felt too ashamed to ask the monks at the temple. He pondered in place for a moment before finally writing down the two names.
–
Yirong had been unconscious for two nights and a day.
When she opened her eyes, she saw Shuilian and Xingxiang sitting on embroidered stools beside the bed. The moment they saw her awake, both of them jumped up and rushed to her bedside.
“Miss, you’re awake!”
“Shuilian!”
The two embraced, weeping for a good while. Yirong sniffled and asked, “Are you all right? Did His Majesty punish you afterward?”
Shuilian shook her head with a smile. “This servant is fine.”
Only then did Yirong notice Xingxiang smiling quietly to the side. She beckoned her over. The palm print had already faded from Xingxiang’s fair face. Yirong took her hand and tried to get out of bed.
Shuilian and Xingxiang hurriedly stopped her.
“Madam, you were just poisoned and have only just woken up. Please lie still and don’t move.”
Yirong then realized what had happened. She asked, “Where am I?”
“You’re in His Majesty’s sleeping chambers,” Xingxiang told her.
Yirong’s eyes darkened. Of course. Since both of them had been brought back, it must have been Zheng Yan’s orders.
Hesitantly, she asked, “Was I poisoned? How long was I asleep? Have they found out who did it?”
Neither of them knew who had poisoned her, but they did their best to answer her other questions.
Yirong felt her spirits were decent, so she tried to sit up. Suddenly, her vision went black. It took a moment for her to recover. Shuilian tucked her in properly and said, “Miss, just rest well.”
No sooner had she spoken than a servant girl announced that the two young ladies from the Pei family had arrived.
Pei Jingqi, the eldest miss, was her lifesaver. Yirong quickly had them invited in.
The sisters were dressed identically. Yirong thanked Pei Jingqi profusely and expressed her gratitude to both of them for visiting her.
Pei Jingwan grinned and said, “Madam Lu, you’re being far too polite. By the way, how did you realize you had been poisoned?”
She had seen no issue with Madam Lu being treated by the imperial physician at the temple. She assumed that, apart from those near the Emperor, there were no proper doctors on this trip, so it made perfect sense for her sister to bring Madam Lu to the Emperor for treatment.
Yirong recounted what had happened in the carriage.
Jingwan listened in a daze. When she recovered, she said, “Madam Lu, you’re amazing! If it had been me, I never would have noticed anything wrong!”
She kept praising Yirong until Yirong’s cheeks flushed red. Suddenly, Yirong thought of something important and asked them, “Have they found out who did this to me?”
The sisters exchanged a glance. Jingqi said, “We don’t know either.”
Having stayed for some time, Jingqi took her leave. “Madam Lu, rest well. We won’t disturb you any longer.”
Hearing her speak reminded Yirong of her petty suspicions that night. She sighed inwardly and instructed Xingxiang to see them out properly.
After seeing off the guests, Shuilian helped her drink a medicinal soup to clear the poison and replenish her qi, then had her close her eyes and rest.
Yirong shut her eyes. Who wanted to harm her?
The sensation of that excruciating pain gradually resurfaced, and she frowned.
She had no clues. It was almost laughable—she was now lying in the territory of the very person she had suspected most at the time.
Yirong had spoken at length with the Pei sisters. After lying down for a short while, drowsiness overtook her, and she drifted off to sleep.
When she woke again, the bedchamber was pitch black. She had no appetite for dinner and thought she might as well keep sleeping. Yet she sensed someone gazing at her from behind.
She slowly turned over.
It was Zheng Yan.
Their eyes met.
Zheng Yan looked at the disheveled silk bedding from her curled-up position and the section of her small leg that was exposed. He averted his gaze.
“It was your uncle who feared your retaliation and poisoned you,” the Emperor said bluntly. “How do you wish to deal with him?”
Yirong suspected she had misheard.
Her mind buzzed.
Her uncle… He had always been cold toward her as his niece, but why would he want to kill her?
Looking at the Emperor’s stern face, enlightenment dawned on Yirong.
After a long moment, she asked, “Does Your Majesty mean that I get to decide?”
“Yes. Life or death is yours to decide.”
No candles were lit by the bed. A Night-Luminous Pearl, larger than a fist, emitted a soft, glowing light.
Yirong thought for a moment. “If Your Majesty permits, I would like to discuss it with my mother first. May I?”
The Emperor replied indifferently, “As you wish.”
This way, she would be able to see her mother after returning to the Capital City!
Yirong smiled. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”
The moment the words left her mouth, she stared in shock at the Emperor.
His expression changed drastically. Two icy gazes, sharp as swords, shot toward her, filled with undisguised fury.