“Divorced,” Su Miao replied openly, hands on her hips, twisting her body coquettishly at her. “No one in the whole capital’s been married less than a year and already received divorce papers. I’m the first.”
Her expression was so full of pride that one might think she hadn’t been divorced at all, but rather had just given birth to ten sons less than a year into marriage.
Huayue looked at her, puzzled. “What happened?”
Su Miao laughed, propping herself on the windowsill and hopping into the room, pulling her over to sit on the soft couch, saying breezily, “Nothing much, just wanted to try a different path. Sister-in-law, no need to worry, I’m doing fine. I already arranged with Muyu just now—we’ll leave the dowry here with you, take some silver, and go traveling around. Once we spend it all, we’ll come back for more.”
Li Jingyun had given her quite a generous dowry—even spending it recklessly, it could last several years.
Su Miao genuinely liked Shen Zhiluo. If she was willingly accepting this divorce, then Huayue had nothing much to advise her on—in her impression, Shen Zhiluo had never seemed like someone suited to a stable married life anyway. She’d anticipated this day would come, just hadn’t expected it so soon.
Having Shuang Jiang bring people to carry the trunks under cover of darkness, Huayue fetched water for Su Miao to wash her hands, wiping the dust from the wall off her bit by bit.
Su Miao loved this quality of tolerance in Huayue—no matter how shocking the things she said sounded to others, so long as she came seeking shelter, her little sister-in-law never asked too much, only made her noodles and washed her hands, like an elder.
In front of her, Su Miao felt she could still be a child.
“Oh right, sister-in-law, where’s cousin?” She looked around. “This late and he’s still not back?”
The hand holding the handkerchief paused, then continued wiping the water droplets away as though nothing were the matter. Huayue curved her lips into a smile. “You know very well what position he holds now. Naturally he’s busy—not so easy to come back.”
Su Miao nodded, not suspecting anything, finished washing her hands, drank a couple cups of tea, ate some pastries, and, seeing she was finally growing drowsy, took her leave.
Thanks to Su Miao, Huayue slept well that night—no water, no fire in her dreams, only a bright moon hanging over the wall.
The next day when she woke, the room still held only her. Huayue calmly rose and got herself ready, and upon stepping out of the east courtyard, ran right into Li Shoutian on his way to court.
Ever since that earlier confrontation, Li Shoutian had looked upon her with unconcealed displeasure—even knowing she was carrying a child, he no longer regarded her as the young mistress of the household. With Li Jingyun away, and now nowhere in sight, Li Shoutian said with a cold sneer, “Just in time. The household is running low on supplies—here’s the list. Go do the shopping, and don’t make a mess of it.”
Shuang Jiang frowned beside her, stepping forward to protest that no one should send a pregnant woman out to do the shopping, but before she could take a step, Huayue blocked her path and bowed to Li Shoutian instead. “Yes.”
Li Shoutian left. Shuang Jiang, her face dark, tugged at Huayue’s sleeve.
Knowing she was worried, Huayue took the list and said, “It’s actually convenient timing—without a proper errand, it would be hard to explain myself if questioned, and I’d be less likely to be stopped and interrogated.”
Shuang Jiang paused, suddenly remembering—Sun Yaozu had sent word earlier asking her to come to the villa when she had time, presumably regarding Kang Zhenzhong’s death. Her mistress had never responded, and she’d assumed she no longer intended to maintain contact with that group.
“What about the shopping, then?”
“Have Xiaocai do it.” Huayue waved her hand. “Go to Qifeng Tower and call for her.”
Xiaocai had previously worked for Sun Yaozu’s group, passing along messages. But after the Third Young Master had dismissed the old kitchen staff, Xiaocai had lost her position. Sun Yaozu’s group used people but didn’t take care of them—Xiaocai had nearly been forced into becoming a butcher’s concubine, and it was Huayue who had saved her and sent her to work in the kitchens of Qifeng Tower.
Shuang Jiang had assumed her mistress had suddenly developed a soft heart, but after receiving news back from Xiaocai at Qifeng Tower last time, she understood—this was borrowing an enemy’s blade for one’s own use, no loss to herself at all.
Harnessing the horse and readying the carriage, the two of them soon arrived at the villa.
This was a residence under Shen Zhiluo’s name, at some point given over for Yinru and Sun Yaozu to guard. The two of them made themselves quite at home, treating it as their own residence. Seeing her enter, their earlier neglectful manner turned entirely—full of proper courtesy, they came forward to greet her.
“Greetings to the young mistress.”
Huayue lowered her eyes. “There’s no young mistress in Great Liang. There’s no need for either of you to continue with this ceremony.”
“What are you saying, young mistress.” Sun Yaozu smiled. “You may not have received our greetings lately, but in our hearts, you have always remained our young mistress. When Great Wei is restored someday, the child in your belly will be the sole bloodline of the Wei imperial family.”
Not content with claiming her lineage—now they wanted the child in her womb too? Huayue silently criticized this, supported by Shuang Jiang’s hand as she entered and sat, looking at the person seated in the seat of honor.
Shen Zhiluo’s complexion looked poor, as though he hadn’t slept all night, his violet eyes half-lidded, ink-black hair loose, without his usual talisman-patterned hairband, his starry outer robe half-slipped off his arm.
She’d seen this look on him often enough back in the palace, and she used to always say, “Sir looks as though he’s about to ascend to the immortals at any moment, unattached to the mortal world.”
“What does a child know.” He always replied the same way. “This is called being pure of the six roots, unconcerned with outward appearance.”
Later, after meeting again, he had become considerably more proper in his bearing—especially in front of Su Miao, dressing himself with proper discipline.
And now that Su Miao had left, he’d gone back to being “pure of the six roots.”
Rather amused, Huayue raised an eyebrow and gave him a rare smile. “Since you’re in such poor spirits, why bother rushing to discuss matters?”
Shen Zhiluo came back to himself, gathering his sleeves. “They say the matter of restoring Great Wei can’t do without you.”
“Even with me, it might not work.” The two of them sat close together, and Huayue lowered her voice—the others below couldn’t hear, only Shen Zhiluo could.
She’d expected him to glare at her, but he didn’t—he even curved his lips slightly, then continued as though he hadn’t heard. “Feng Zixi only listens to you. He’s the manager of the weapons armory, holding authority over weapon casting and iron smelting. If we can get him to advance and retreat alongside us, that would be a great asset.”
Huayue laughed hearing this. “Lord Feng holds high office and real power. He’s not my servant. Even if I spoke up, he wouldn’t necessarily be willing to take such a risk.”
“Still worth trying.” Sun Yaozu stepped forward. “This Great Liang emperor is old, internal strife runs deep, his days are numbered too. We just need to find a way to bring down that Crown Prince, and Great Liang will have no capable heir left. Then, while he’s ill, we take his life, and Great Wei can be restored.”
Listening quietly until he finished, Huayue found it curious. “Even if Great Liang has no capable heir, someone will still ascend the throne eventually—so many princes and princesses. How can you be so certain that striking while he’s ill will secure his life?”
Sun Yaozu and Yinru exchanged a glance and smile, both turning to look at her together.
Huayue: “…?”
“The Li family are meritorious officials of Great Liang, but unfortunately their achievements have overshadowed their lord, and they’ve been suppressed all along. Their daughters sent into the palace never bear princes their whole lives; their sons sent to the border still have to shed blood and sacrifice for Great Liang. If not for Third Young Master Li seizing the opportunity to grasp power, the General’s residence would probably already be flattened by now. What do you think, young mistress—wouldn’t the Li family harbor resentment?”
Thinking of the almost-close-but-not-quite relationship between Li Jingyun and Zhou Heshuo, Huayue lowered her eyes.
Li Jingyun had always been wary of the Crown Prince, and had even used the Princess Imperial as leverage against him in scheming. But as for resentment—Huayue felt Li Jingyun harbored none. That man, despite his imposing presence and his career rising ever higher, was, in truth, only trying to protect those few people around him and the General’s residence itself. He had no grander ambitions.
Sun Yaozu continued, “Right now, having just gained his military authority, he may not yet have any particular thoughts—but as time goes on, even immortals develop worldly ambitions. Once he manages to ascend the throne of Great Liang, the child in your belly would be our rightful, legitimate young master. Once grown, he could be established as emperor, reclaiming the Wei dynasty’s territory.”
What a fine idea—Huayue nearly wanted to applaud him.
“You’re agreeing to this?” Sun Yaozu brightened.
“Agreeing, why wouldn’t I agree? By your reasoning, I wouldn’t just be Empress—I’d eventually be Empress Dowager too, finally able to be buried in an imperial mausoleum after death.” Huayue said, delighted, her eyes curving with pleasure. “Only one thing—how exactly is someone like the Li family’s third young master supposed to ascend the throne of Great Liang?”
“You still look down on the third young master?” Yinru slapped her knee. “His methods are quite something—hasn’t been in his position long, and already there’s no one in the Imperial Guards or Palace Guards who doesn’t submit to him. That’s a born military commander.”
Obviously—Li Jingyun had been the terror of Luohua Street since childhood, born into a martial family besides, with both natural skill and varied technique. There wasn’t a single person in the entire capital who could beat him one-on-one.
The Imperial Guards and Palace Guards had all been unconvinced at first, then were all taken to the training grounds for a few rounds of sparring, after which no one dared voice dissent anymore.
That man, wearing his black silk robe and silver armor, standing astride his horse with a long spear—was the finest-looking man she’d ever seen in her life.
It was just a shame that this person seemed to be drifting further and further from her.
Huayue lowered her head, smiling as she smoothed her sleeve.
“They’ve already discussed their thinking with me.” Shen Zhiluo said. “You need only nurture the pregnancy and, in passing, persuade Feng Zixi. The matter itself isn’t complicated—only that dealing with Zhou Heshuo requires more careful, long-term planning.”
“The Crown Prince is naturally someone Master Shen understands best. The rest of us can’t offer much input there.” Sun Yaozu gathered his sleeves. “Once the two of you have worked things out, just let us know.”
Shen Zhiluo nodded, standing to take Huayue to the back courtyard.
The back courtyard had a hexagonal pavilion where Chang Gui had already been sitting for a while. Seeing her, his eyes were still venomous as ever, like a snake, only restrained by Shen Zhiluo’s presence, occasionally flicking his tongue at her from within its basket.
“Those in the front hall are the ones with ambitions for the whole realm.” Shen Zhiluo said. “There are many like them, all hoping to overturn heaven and earth—it takes tremendous effort. But the three of us sitting here are different. We’re small-minded, only after private vengeance.”
Chang Gui looked at Yin Huayue with a smile. “What grievance from the previous dynasty has anything to do with this General’s wife?”
Shen Zhiluo glanced at him.
Pausing slightly, Chang Gui lowered his voice somewhat. “Not wrong, either—the General’s wife lives in fine clothes now, with a husband backing her, doesn’t her life go well enough? Why bother wading into muddy waters?”
Huayue wasn’t offended, answering with a smile, “I’ve never treasured the good days I’ve had. I’d rather find some muddy water to wade into. If you’re not pleased, my lord, you’re welcome to reach right here and choke it out of me.”
She pointed to her own neck, blinking.
Shen Zhiluo’s face darkened as he looked at Chang Gui, who fell silent. This young mistress looked gentle enough, but she held her grudges quite firmly in her heart.
“Just received word—the Crown Prince has arranged with the Fifth Prince to admire flowers at the East Palace next month. Lord Chang thinks this is a rare opportunity, wanting to infiltrate the East Palace for an assassination attempt.” Shen Zhiluo asked. “What does the young mistress think?”
“Sounds simple enough, but the palace has extensive protocols—just passing through the palace gates requires several inspections. How could it be so easy to infiltrate?” Huayue shook her head. “Last time at Guanshan, Lord Chang also thought victory was assured, and yet Zhou Heshuo had already caught wind of it beforehand. Acting rashly again this time, the outcome likely won’t be much different.”
Mentioning the Guanshan incident, Shen Zhiluo laughed. “The Crown Prince’s guard is extremely tight—he already knew Chang Gui’s people had assassination intentions from the start. He caught them off guard by turning the tables. To preserve certain people, this one had no choice but to sacrifice Lord Chang’s remaining subordinates.”
Bah—what preserving certain people. What he’d actually wanted to preserve was his own people and Yin Huayue.
Mentioning this, Chang Gui’s expression darkened. If those subordinates he’d commanded were still around, he wouldn’t need to look at Shen Zhiluo’s face now.
“So what do the two of you think should be done?” he asked.
Huayue said, “Find another time. The palace isn’t a good place to act.”
Scoffing coldly, Chang Gui choked out, “Just because it’s currently your husband guarding the palace, you’re afraid something might happen and implicate him? Never the right time, never the right place. I’ve already waited a full five years for a good opportunity, and I don’t want to wait anymore. Young mistress, if you still hold any regard for your imperial brother, help send the men into the palace. The rest is none of your concern.”
Mentioning Yin Ninghuai always set him off. Huayue had grown used to this—in Chang Gui’s eyes, everyone in this world except himself was trying to harm Yin Ninghuai, was failing him somehow.
Seeing his mind was made up, she didn’t bother persuading him further, simply nodding in agreement.
Chang Gui had no wish to stay longer with her. After discussing a few details, he stood and left.
Leaves rustled down in the courtyard, blown by the wind over the walls, carried off somewhere unknown. Huayue touched her slightly cool teacup and suddenly asked quietly, “Do people have another life after this one?”
Shen Zhiluo nodded. “Yes.”
“Then when will my eldest imperial brother come back into this world again?” She tilted her head to look at him. “Will I still be alive to meet him again?”
Giving her a look, Shen Zhiluo said quietly, “Even if you met him, you wouldn’t recognize him. Why bother thinking about it.”
Huayue fell silent, gazing out at the somewhat gray sky in the distance.
Shen Zhiluo took something out and placed it before her. “This is yours. It doesn’t seem right for it to stay with me any longer.”
A pristine white nameplate, engraved with her birth date. Huayue froze the moment she saw it. “Where did this come from?”
“Chang Gui recovered it. Keep it.” Shen Zhiluo gave a short laugh. “Consider it a keepsake.”
Back then, when Yin Ninghuai had taken this item away, he’d told her to live for herself, no longer needing to bear any burden of the Yin imperial family—after all, the Yin imperial family had never given her the status she deserved.
And now, as she found herself tangled up in this scheme of revenge alongside them, this nameplate had returned to her hands after all.
Rather curious, wasn’t it? She nodded, tucking the item into her sleeve for safekeeping.
Coming here today, there wasn’t much else to it—as Shen Zhiluo had said, she had no grand ambitions, only private grievances. If she could ride along with their momentum and send Zhou Heshuo down to the underworld, that would be accomplishment enough, nothing more to seek. So the plan Chang Gui proposed, she was willing to try too. The only question was how to get the men into the East Palace without Li Jingyun noticing.
The names on the list Chang Gui had given her were all guards stationed at the palace gates—in terms of seniority and skill, still far from the Imperial Guards proper. Huayue met with each of them first, then, taking advantage of Li Jingyun’s absence, began bringing them around to various places.
Commander Li was at the height of his influence now, with far too many people eager to curry favor with him, and by extension treating Huayue with great courtesy too. Upon hearing that these were distant relatives of hers, some were even happy to help promote them. Li Jingyun, busy with affairs, wouldn’t notice for the time being, and these men gradually began drawing closer to the East Palace.
Listening to Shuang Jiang relay this news, Huayue felt something like a disaster-bringer’s guilt—she was essentially holding a torch and setting fire to Li Jingyun’s own backyard.
But he didn’t seem to mind at all, entirely focused on Han Shuang, not having returned to the residence even once in all this time.
Despite the many physicians trying everything they could, Han Shuang’s severe injuries only bought her a few more days. On the twentieth of the eighth month, the Han residence hung mourning banners, and Li Jingyun finally returned.
Huayue had expected him to look haggard—perhaps forgetting to shave his stubble, since ever since their marriage, she’d always been the one to shave his face each day. Instead, that man walked in still looking radiant and dashing as ever, his ink-black eyes sweeping over her, softening slightly.
“My lord.” She stepped forward to bow.
For other households, being apart made reunion sweeter than a new marriage—but for the two of them, this separation had turned them into strangers. Li Jingyun said nothing much, settling onto the soft couch. The person beside him asked considerately, “Shall I have lunch brought up? There’s pigeon soup, the kind you like.”
Li Jingyun nodded, looking at her belly, which seemed to have grown rounder, and smiled. “Well taken care of.”
Huayue nodded, arranging the table and chairs to invite him to sit for the meal.
Glancing over the dishes on the table, he picked up his chopsticks and asked, “Will you be going to pay respects at the Han residence’s mourning?”
Without thinking, Huayue shook her head. “It’s fine for you to go alone.”
“Oh?” He placed a piece of meat in her bowl, eyelids raised slightly. “Don’t want to go?”
His expression wasn’t quite right. Huayue observed for a moment and understood—perhaps earlier he hadn’t reacted in time given how sudden it had been, but now, having stayed at the Han residence so long, with news traveling fast, he’d likely finally traced it back to her.
She wasn’t as flustered as she might have expected, simply ladling him a bowl of soup and saying generously, “It’s not that I don’t want to go. I just feel guilty about it.”
Li Jingyun: “…”
Meeting his eyes directly, Huayue said openly, “Constantly holding it in isn’t good for the pregnancy either. Since you once said I could speak my mind directly with you, this time, I will. The killer is the one I let escape—but I don’t know who the killer is, and I can’t testify in court either.”
The implication being: I know Han Shuang was going to die, but I won’t say who did it. I helped the killer act, but this has nothing to do with me.
Li Jingyun was infuriated into laughter. “I told you to speak your mind, open your heart to me, and this is what you use the chance for—murder and unreasonable defiance?”
Huayue shook her head. “I didn’t kill anyone.”
“Being an accomplice is the same as being a killer. If you were brought before the court, you’d share the same charge as the murderer.” His chest rose and fell as he set down his chopsticks. “You couldn’t even tolerate her, and had to take her life?”
“My lord, please understand.” Huayue said calmly. “I had no reason to kill her. I merely owed a debt of gratitude, so I helped someone with a favor. Miss Han grew up alongside you, and was once something like half a master to me too. I wouldn’t harm her out of jealousy—I have no right to that. It’s only that she owed a debt, and someone came to collect it.”
Li Jingyun had been investigating this case for several days, knowing it could well be the Feng family seeking revenge—but hearing it directly from her mouth, he still found himself angry.
“Something this significant, and you wouldn’t discuss it with me first?”
Discuss it? Huayue looked up, puzzled. “If I’d discussed it with you first, my lord, would you have let Han Shuang be attacked?”
Of course not. Li Jingyun pressed his lips together—by feeling, she was someone he’d grown up alongside after all; he wouldn’t dislike her enough to watch her die. And by reason, there was still much he hadn’t figured out that relied on getting answers from Han Shuang.
He said nothing, and Huayue took that as her answer too. Setting down the soup ladle, she smiled. “Earlier, my lord treated me with sincerity, and I was truly grateful for it—I once even considered you the person closest to me. But we walk different paths, and even as husband and wife, if our positions differ, your blade would eventually turn toward my own throat regardless. Rather than face that heartbreak later, better to make things clear now.”
Clear about what, understand what? Li Jingyun was nearly furious to death. “There are countless ways to have both in this world—why must you insist on walking a single-plank bridge?”
Huayue shook her head, a hint of cunning in her smile. “You can’t corner me anymore now, my lord.”
“I am the young mistress of your General’s residence, carrying your own flesh and blood. Even if you were to go before the Crown Prince right now and claim I’m a remnant of the former dynasty, it would only end in mutual destruction for you as well. You hold my secret in your hands—and I hold the ledgers of your Qifeng Tower.”
The dealings conducted behind the scenes at Qifeng Tower were far too numerous to bring into the open—no matter how cleanly it was dressed up, someone as skilled with accounts as her could see through many of its workings.
His knuckles white with how tightly he gripped them, Li Jingyun’s face clouded over completely as he stood. “I gave you my heart’s affection, and you stab it with a knife?”
“Forgive me, my lord.” Huayue lowered her head. “What I’ve said only applies to the scenario where you abandon me first. If you don’t sell me out, I’ll naturally keep those things hidden until I carry them into my grave.”
What a fine Manager Yin, what a fine Western Palace young mistress—truly refusing to be manipulated in the slightest, always keeping a way out for herself. Li Jingyun was furious beyond measure, feeling as though all his heartfelt intentions had been fed to the dogs.
“Have some soup.” She said quietly. “I only meant to be honest with you about the water incident. I’m not trying to sever ties with you.”
How was this any different from severing ties? He’d racked his brain trying to understand her, wanted to shoulder her burdens and clean up after her, wanted to walk the same path with her—and this was how she repaid it, drawing clear boundaries between them in just a few words, unwilling to be entangled with him any further.
Li Jingyun felt Yin Huayue was like a snail—seemingly slow and gentle on the surface, but the moment you carelessly touched her, she’d immediately retreat into her shell, putting on an air of having nothing to do with romantic matters at all.
What kind of affliction was this?
Taking a deep breath, he said, “I can’t keep someone like you. If you truly feel we’re not on the same path, then move back to that small courtyard from before.”
No one wants to be held by the throat with leverage against them. In saying all this, Huayue had already prepared herself to leave the General’s residence—after all, with Madam Zhuang gone, moving out would also spare her from facing Li Shoutian every day, and she’d gain some freedom of movement besides.
Only, as she stood and bowed to thank him, she still felt that tiny bit—just the smallest bit—of hurt.