Last year, rebels surrounded the city; this year, peasants in Luo Province revolted—the Great Xuan conducted this year’s Winter Welcoming ceremony with trepidation.

With ministers leading the way and Imperial Guards protecting both sides, the winding procession was a riot of colors. With Prince Su Wenren Lin escorting the Emperor, Zhao Yān wasn’t too concerned about trouble occurring on the way, and indeed, the journey proceeded smoothly.

Upon reaching the northern suburbs, daylight had just broken. Thin morning light poured from the clouds, but before any warmth could be detected, a cold wind blew through, chilling everyone.

Zhao Yān alighted from her carriage, raising her hand to shield against the piercing sunlight. Her left eyelid twitched uncontrollably.

The officials lined up in formation, with the sacrificial altar standing tall in the distance. She squinted through the gaps between her fingers, her voice still carrying traces of drowsy weariness from lack of sleep: “How is the situation?”

“Commander Gu Xing has led the Eastern Palace guards to maintain vigilance in secret, and no abnormalities have been detected. The Ministry of Rites and Imperial Guards have repeatedly inspected the altar and sacrificial wine and meat. Li Fu has confirmed there are no issues.”

Liu Ying adjusted Zhao Yān’s robes that had been wrinkled by the wind and said in a low voice, “Your Highness could have claimed illness and excused yourself from today’s ceremony.”

Zhao Yān lowered her shielding hand and lifted the corner of her lips, saying: “Claiming illness is merely a delaying tactic. I worry that being absent too long would give others ammunition to make a big issue of it. Besides, when playing chess against a formidable opponent lurking in the shadows, one cannot win simply by remaining still.”

At this point, it was better to face challenges as they came.

According to ritual, during the Winter Welcoming ceremony, a brazier must be lit to produce smoke. The Crown Prince would follow the Emperor onto the platform and place offerings for the Winter God—tributes and prayer cloths—into the sacrificial furnace to be burned.

…

…

As Zhao Yān walked through the ranks of officials and watched the ritual officials preparing torches below the platform, she suddenly halted, her heart seizing abruptly.

There was one place they’d missed!

The Imperial Guards had only checked above and below the altar, but the thick layer of incense ash in the brazier was obscure and hidden—a perfect place to conceal something sinister…

Lost in thought, the sunlight before her was suddenly blocked, and a low, calm voice reached her: “Cold?”

Zhao Yān looked up from within the shadow to see Wenren Lin standing with his hands behind his back. Though the wind was strong, he stood firm and unwavering, without even a wrinkle disturbing the edges of his robes.

During the ceremony, everyone maintained solemnity. Zhao Yān dared not make any dramatic movements, only lowering her gaze discreetly as she said: “I just remembered the wood and kindling in the sacrificial furnace… they haven’t been checked.”

So that was it.

Wenren Lin’s lips moved slightly, gesturing for her to look toward the altar.

Zhao Yān did as suggested, and saw several Imperial Guards had already opened the sacrificial furnace and were efficiently removing the ash and wood inside, replacing them with new materials.

“You already thought of this?”

Zhao Yān visibly relaxed, her complexion nearly translucent in the sunlight.

Wenren Lin neither confirmed nor denied it: “If I couldn’t anticipate this much, this Prince would have no business holding my position.”

“Your Highness.”

One of the Imperial Guards who had been examining the furnace hurried down, saluting Wenren Lin, “Saltpeter and sulfur were mixed with the ashes…”

The guard kept his voice extremely low, but Zhao Yān was standing close enough to hear fragments.

So she had stumbled upon something after all—the sacrificial furnace indeed had issues.

Saltpeter and sulfur mixed with charcoal were ingredients for gunpowder. If she had followed the Emperor onto the platform and lit the kindling during the ritual… the consequences would have been unthinkable!

Wenren Lin glanced at Zhao Yān, then followed the guard to examine the fuel removed from behind the altar. His pale fingers brushed across the wood, then brought them to his nose for a light sniff, confirming the pungent smell of gunpowder.

Cai Tian stepped forward with his hand on his sword, reporting: “Your Highness, those who handled the materials have been apprehended. Should we deal with them on the spot?”

“Hold them for now.”

Wenren Lin unhurriedly looked toward Zhao Yān, who stood in the front row of officials, chuckled softly, his gaze deepening.

This was the young Highness’s game—he would watch how she handled it.

If she couldn’t see through such a trivial scheme, he would step in later. Then he would certainly drag her back to the Eastern Palace for a good punishment and lesson.

The Winter Welcoming ceremony was complex. Zhao Yān held the prayer cloths as she ascended one side of the altar, the wind making her head ache.

After the brazier was lit, the Emperor gazed at the flames while Zhao Yān placed the prayer cloths into the sacrificial furnace with her own hands to burn, held incense and bowed three times, then retreated to the side.

The officials prostrated themselves in unison. The flames in the furnace flickered wildly, but the sacrificial furnace remained intact.

A close call with no harm done.

Afterward, they began the journey back to the palace. After toiling for half the day, everyone in the imperial procession showed signs of fatigue, and the returning entourage moved notably slower.

Zhao Yān was both tired and hungry, yet dared not relax her vigilance. She grabbed a handful of dried fruit to chew on for energy. Halfway through the journey, a sudden commotion erupted from the front of the procession.

The carriage came to an abrupt halt, nearly causing Zhao Yān to choke on her dried fruit. She suppressed her cough by drinking a cup of tea before finally recovering enough to ask: “What has happened?”

Imperial Guards rushed back and forth, trying to maintain order, while the Eastern Palace guards also stood at attention. Gu Xing, who had gone ahead to scout, returned and reported: “Someone attempted an ambush and assassination at the front, but they have been captured by Prince Su’s men.”

Zhao Yān nodded.

This was the necessary route back to the palace, and once inside the palace, there would be no more opportunities. If she were an assassin, she would also set an ambush here.

The rest of the journey proceeded smoothly without further incident.

The Winter Welcoming ceremony procession entered through the northern gate of the Imperial City. Due to the grand national banquet that night, men and women would be seated separately: the Emperor would host officials and royal relatives in the Yonglin Hall with warmed wine and feasting, while the Empress would entertain the imperial consorts and noblewomen in Qifeng Pavilion.

According to ritual, the Crown Prince should first pay respects to the Empress at Qifeng Pavilion, then change clothes and proceed to Yonglin Hall to comfort the officials.

The carriage stopped at the North Garden gate. Imperial Guards patrolled back and forth, and Zhao Yān finally released her tightly clenched fingers, exhaling a long breath of white vapor as if she had survived a calamity.

Next, she would see what clues Wenren Lin could extract from the sacrificial furnace incident and the would-be assassins.

“Back in the palace, Your Highness can finally breathe easier,” Liu Ying helped her down from the carriage, also visibly relieved.

The twilight sky was heavy with dusk.

At this time, beside the winding pool behind Yonglin Hall, Marquis Ningyang Wei Yan stood alone with his hands behind his back, his moon-white brocade robe fluttering in the wind.

“Is the Marquis unable to proceed? Today we have already failed twice; we cannot fail again.”

A young man dressed as a Daoist priest said, “If you are concerned about blood relations, this humble one can do the deed for you.”

“Though I am reluctant, I do not disregard the bigger picture.”

Wei Yan said in a gentle voice, “Strike while the iron is hot… After a crisis, people tend to lower their guard.”

“Does the Marquis mean there is still another plan?”

“The Crown Prince will pay respects to the Empress at Qifeng Pavilion, then take a sedan at the hour of You to Yonglin Hall, passing through a narrow corridor. Being inside the palace, the Crown Prince cannot bring guards besides palace attendants.”

The priest immediately understood: “The Marquis’s true target is there, striking in the place everyone considers safest? But the corridor is flanked by high walls on both sides. Even with arrows, it would be impossible to guarantee success.”

“Ordinary arrows have too little power; naturally, they wouldn’t work.”

Wei Yan said calmly, “But if we replace them with ‘Zhurong,’ we would need only one Imperial Guard and one fire arrow.”

“Zhurong” was incidentally discovered by the Daoist master while refining elixirs—a copper ball the size of a chicken egg, hollow inside and filled with gunpowder. When ignited, it could produce enough explosive force to destroy an alchemical furnace.

How could a sedan chair compare to the durability of an alchemical furnace?

With the copper ball attached to an arrow coated with nitric oil, even a single person standing dozens of zhang away could easily complete the assassination… leaving the target no chance to react, even if attendants were right beside them.

The priest was overjoyed and saluted with joined palms: “This humble one awaits the Marquis’s good news.”

Wei Yan showed little joy, however, with the setting sun casting a faint layer of sadness across his face.

He had already provided a perfect explanation to the Eastern Palace. As long as the Crown Prince stopped being stubborn, they could coexist peacefully. Unfortunately, that child was always troublesome.

Having to kill that child again was… painful.

Fortunately, Yue had drunk the tea he brewed and was resting at the Marquis’s mansion, not attending the banquet. If she were disturbed, it would truly be an unforgivable sin.

…

Outside the North Garden gate, numerous luxurious carriages had already stopped, with noblewomen in splendid attire entering, their hairpins and ornaments glittering brilliantly.

Zhao Yān entered the hall to change clothes and specifically asked: “Has the Ningyang Marquis’s wife arrived? I have some questions I’d like to ask her privately.”

Liu Ying removed her elaborate ceremonial robes and helped her change into a purple-gold gauze robe: “Didn’t the Empress tell Your Highness? The Marquis’s wife’s old illness has returned, so she cannot attend tonight’s banquet.”

“Uncle’s wife is ill?”

Zhao Yān’s hand paused while putting on her sleeve. Last month, when she visited the Ningyang Marquis’s mansion, hadn’t her aunt said that she had greatly improved after taking the elixir given by her uncle?

Without any apparent reason, how could she suddenly fall ill again?

A thought occurred to her, and Zhao Yān felt a chill rise from her heart, making her spine tremble.

She suddenly bent over, pressing her throbbing temples.

“Your Highness?”

Liu Ying quickly supported her body, noticed her cold fingertips, and instinctively called for an Imperial Physician.

“It’s nothing, don’t worry… I just suddenly had a bad feeling that this matter might not be over yet.”

“This servant will immediately check the wine, food, and incense burners that Your Highness will touch.”

“No, it won’t be that simple.”

Zhao Yān sat in her chair, supporting her forehead and mumbling, wearing the loosely fitted purple-gold gauze robe with her belt still untied. “Don’t make a sound, let me think carefully about how to respond.”

Zhao Yān, stay calm.

She constantly reminded herself, mobilizing what little rationality she had left to analyze carefully: if she were the true mastermind behind the scenes, where would she set the trap?

But she couldn’t be certain—there were too many possibilities.

Should she seek Wenren Lin’s help? No, it hadn’t come to that point yet.

People can become lazy. Once she allowed herself to become dependent, growing soft and weak, she might never stand on her own again. That wasn’t what she wanted.

Which move should she make to turn this passive situation where the enemy lurked in darkness while she stood in the light?

Zhao Yān pressed her knuckles against her lips, her eyelashes casting long, dark shadows as she found herself in an unprecedented dilemma. And she likely had only this one chance to lure out the enemy.

“Deception is a battle of hearts…”

She remembered Wenren Lin’s advice from the previous night. Her trembling eyelashes paused, settling like still water.

“Liu Ying.”

“This servant is here.”

“Go ask Empress to issue an imperial decree summoning the Ningyang Marquis’s wife to Qifeng Pavilion for a reunion. Be quick.”

Upon hearing this, Liu Ying was slightly startled: “Your Highness, those in high positions should show compassion. Besides, the Ningyang Marquis’s wife claims to be ill at home, and may not answer the summons.”

Zhao Yān had naturally thought of this.

“Have Mother Empress relay a message to my aunt, and she will attend the banquet.”

After only a moment’s hesitation, she raised her calm eyes and said softly, “Let’s gamble on the human heart.”

The people of Kunning Palace moved quickly.

Half an hour later, Rong Fuyue entered the pavilion in a plain dress with silver hairpins. Among the colorfully dressed women, she was like a clay sculpture illuminated by moonlight, making others pale in comparison.

She did not linger, merely nodding slightly as a greeting, then followed Lady He into the inner chamber of Qifeng Pavilion. Her sickly appearance, far from diminishing her beauty, only added a sense of fragile vulnerability like delicate jade.

Empress Wei was brewing tea around a brazier. Seeing her enter, she put down the bamboo tea tongs: “You’ve come at the right time. This Palace has momentarily forgotten how to properly make this Lu Sheng tea.”

Rong Fuyue’s sickly appearance could not hide her sorrow. She hurried forward two steps and curtsied gracefully to Empress Wei: “This subject is deeply troubled by what Your Majesty has asked and has come seeking clarification.”

…

Zhao Yān hurried over after changing her clothes. Upon seeing her aunt Rong Fuyue, her heart settled halfway.

She stepped forward to pay her respects, calling out “Aunt.”

Rong Fuyue sat in a daze, tears in her eyes like lotus petals dripping with dew, mumbling: “How could this be… I never knew…”

Before finishing her sentence, she suddenly clutched her chest, her eyebrows tightly knit, seeming unable to bear the pain as she gasped for breath.

“Lady Marquis.”

“Aunt!”

Remembering that her aunt always carried medicine with her, Zhao Yān untied her fragrance pouch and poured out a medicine bottle, giving her a pill.

A light brown pill that emitted a faint fragrance. Rong Fuyue soon recovered, her breathing gradually stabilizing.

Even while holding back tears, Rong Fuyue showed no signs of embarrassment or impropriety. She rose to pay her respects: “Thank you, Your Majesty, for informing me of this today. This subject is physically unwell and fears offending Your Majesty, so will take leave first.”

Empress Wei spoke in a gentle tone, looking at Zhao Yān: “Crown Prince, escort the Lady Marquis out of the hall.”

As she spoke, Empress Wei secretly nodded to Zhao Yān.

With this signal, Zhao Yān knew her guess was mostly confirmed. Her heart sank, filling with boundless sorrow.

Although Rong Fuyue looked pale, her mind remained relatively calm. After leaving Qifeng Pavilion, she gave Zhao Yān a gentle curtsy.

“Aunt, what are you doing?” Zhao Yān quickly pretended to support her.

Rong Fuyue said with a slight choke: “Your Highness, I wish to see the Marquis and ask him one question face to face.”

At this time, Yonglin Hall was entertaining princes and high officials. For Rong Fuyue to go there as a female member of the family, she could only rely on the Crown Prince’s status and sedan chair.

From the North Garden gate, the long corridor ended at the northern gate of the Imperial City. Inside the northern gate was the direct path to Yonglin Hall.

Zhao Yān knew what Rong Fuyue wanted to ask and could not refuse. She helped Rong Fuyue into the sedan chair and lowered the curtain to block the view.

The gauze lanterns swayed gently in the wind. Dusk had fallen, yet Zhao Yān still had not given the order to depart.

Palace attendants stood silently on both sides. After considering many things, she finally raised her eyes with determination and said, “Aunt, are you willing to trust me once?”

At Yonglin Hall, the lights shone brilliantly, music and dance filled the air, and the banquet was in full swing.

A palace maid, under the pretense of pouring wine, quietly relayed a message to Wei Yan.

Wei Yan’s eyes narrowed slightly. Pleading inability to drink more, he politely declined Duke Jinping’s toast, put down his cup, and rose from his seat.

Once outside the great hall, the bright orange light faded from his face, taking with it his gentle amiability.

Yue should be recovering at the Marquis’s mansion now. Her sudden appearance at Qifeng Pavilion must mean something was amiss.

What had his sister told Yue after calling her away?

Wei Yan walked quickly, heading straight out of Yonglin Gate, only to see Liu Ying leading palace attendants with lanterns outside the gate archway, with a slender figure standing behind them.

Hearing footsteps, the person turned around. A red beauty mark at the corner of their eye, looking at him with complex emotions.

Wei Yan paused: it was the Crown Prince—unharmed.

Zhao Yān swallowed and said gently, “Uncle seems surprised to see me here.”

Wei Yan’s face showed no trace of panic. He respectfully bowed: “This subject wouldn’t dare. Why has Your Highness arrived only now?”

“I’m not late; the banquet has only just begun. Someone once told me about a shortcut, and I fortunately made it in time.”

Zhao Yān gathered her sleeves and said, “As for Uncle, where are you rushing off to after leaving your seat?”

Wei Yan smiled and said: “Yue is bedridden at home. I thought to return first to look after her.”

The wind passed between them like an invisible blade, making the faint sound of something being cut.

“When I was a child, Uncle taught my brothers and me calligraphy and chess. I remember Uncle’s chess style was quite meticulous, especially skilled at lying in wait…”

Zhao Yān lowered her eyelashes and raised her hand to press the small mole at the corner of her eye, saying softly, “Particularly adept at striking when others have lowered their guard, thinking themselves safe, catching them completely unprepared.”

Wei Yan’s expression remained unchanged as he asked: “Why does Your Highness suddenly mention past events?”

“I don’t know where Uncle has set the ambush—whether it’s hidden arrows among the Imperial Guards or poison concealed in the Eastern Palace… but I do know what Uncle’s only weakness is.”

Hearing this, Wei Yan gave a slight chuckle.

Zhao Yān fixed her gaze on him, tightening her fingers inside her sleeve: “What is Uncle laughing at?”

“The Crown Prince is upright and virtuous, benevolent and moral. You are not this type of person.”

He shook his head, as if indulging a child’s tantrum.

Zhao Yān knew whom she was facing—not the brutal and mindless Zhao Yuan’yu, not the mediocre and ineffectual Prince Yong, but a power player who had hidden his true face for over a decade.

Zhao Yān dug her nails into her palm, striving to calmly find a crack for a breakthrough: “Uncle must be curious about what method Mother Empress used to make Aunt disregard her illness and come to the palace?”

Wei Yan remained silent.

He smiled humbly, able to see through everything at a glance, as if looking down from a height with perfect clarity.

This was a battle of hearts; hesitation in a single word or cowardice in a glance would lead to defeat.

“I had Mother Empress bring a message to Aunt.”

Zhao Yān raised her eyes to bravely meet his gaze, saying softly but clearly, “Asking her, ‘When Wenren Cang angrily went north, why didn’t you write to him?'”

At last, a crack appeared in Wei Yan’s perfectly composed face.

The smile at the corners of his mouth gradually faded, like the gentle ripples of spring finally subsiding to reveal the dark undercurrent beneath.