“Is there anything you’d like to eat? I’ll have someone prepare it.” Lu Huating held her. Qun Qing was already slender, and after this ordeal, she was even more like a floating duckweed, nearly nestling in his embrace.

Yet he found it extremely satisfying and encircled her even more tightly.

Qun Qing’s forehead was covered in cold sweat, her body almost without strength. She hadn’t yet emerged from those turbulent emotions and blurted out, “That Lingxin Shop in the West Market—I don’t know why the queue is so long there. I only bought things for others but haven’t tasted it myself yet.”

Lu Huating hummed in acknowledgment. “How is that difficult?”

He freed one hand, pinched a gold bead between his fingers, and smashed open the window lattice. The gold bead was caught perfectly by Juan Su outside, who called out “Command received” and vanished without a trace, leaving only swaying flower branches.

“Are you going out?”

Qun Qing suddenly noticed that Lu Huating was wearing a brocade robe with a split skirt, and suspended from his hip belt was a brand-new gold-plated ceremonial saber. The scabbard’s fierce hand was sharp and menacing, and his fish bag had also been replaced with an unfamiliar narrow silver pouch—not his usual court attire.

She found this somewhat strange and grabbed the silver pouch, wanting to see what token was inside. In the next moment, Lu Huating pressed down on her hand, stopping her action.

“My wife, do you know how I’ve spent these past days? If your body can’t handle it, don’t touch recklessly.” Lu Huating said lightly by her ear, “His Majesty ordered me to participate in the military examination, so he bestowed this saber. I must go to the military training grounds.”

Qun Qing released her hand. So it was time for the military examination again?

Lu Huating had already called people in. The maids waiting outside to assist with bathing and changing clothes immediately filed in like fish. Coming with them were also Nanny Xue and Physician Li. Nanny Xue carried needles, Physician Li held medicine. Knowing Qun Qing had awakened, they repeatedly offered congratulations and another round of concerned instructions.

Qun Qing was pressed down for acupuncture and made to drink medicine. The side chamber was crowded with people while Lu Huating instead stood in the outer room, watching her from afar. As Nanny Xue administered the needles to Qun Qing, she didn’t make a sound, making Nanny Xue feel as if she were needling cotton. “Did I truly never conceive?”

“Indeed not. It was all that wretched Ruo Chan’s doing.” Nanny Xue said.

“What happened to Ruo Chan?” Qun Qing immediately asked.

“She’s dead.” Nanny Xue said.

The warrior maid standing to the side said, “Ruo Chan poisoned and attempted to murder the mistress, abducted the Imperial Grand-grandson, and tried to create palace chaos. When the master pursued her, she feared punishment and took her own life.”

“The palace has verified that Ruo Chan was a Nan Chu spy code-named ‘Heaven.’ Her ability to hide in the palace complex for many years enraged His Majesty. Even several palace officials from the Palace Administration Bureau suffered demotion and implication.” The warrior maid observed Qun Qing’s expression. “Madam, please rest assured and recover. The Imperial Grand-grandson is perfectly safe. His Majesty has not blamed anyone—the master has handled everything.”

Qun Qing said nothing.

She had almost anticipated this outcome. Ruo Chan was indeed the remaining “Heaven.”

She’d heard that Princess Changping and the Zen Master had once trained a group of assassins, finding young children to cultivate from childhood, calling them “Blood Children.” Later, due to protests from senior officials, they had to stop, and this batch of poisonous children vanished without trace. For Ruo Chan to achieve Heaven rank at such a young age, she was very likely one of the remaining Blood Children from that batch.

But the doubts in her heart only accumulated more and more.

If Ruo Chan was “Heaven,” then as early as her first attempt to leave the palace, Ruo Chan should have known she had already betrayed Nan Chu.

As a Heaven rank agent, she should have been as urgent to kill her as Registrar Xu was. Why did Ruo Chan remain unmoved? Didn’t this violate the principles of Nan Chu spies?

“Nanny Xue, you said earlier that the residual poison in my body has been cleared?” Qun Qing asked.

Nanny Xue nodded. “The residual poison in your body wasn’t much to begin with. This time when the poison erupted with obvious symptoms, though extremely dangerous, it provided an opportunity to expel the tainted blood. After this, there will be no further problems. It’s a blessing in disguise.”

If Ruo Chan had wanted to kill her, she could have used more brutal methods. That poisoned needle hidden in the whisk could have taken her life at any unguarded moment. The method of poisoning appeared dangerous on the surface but was truly roundabout.

She was certain Ruo Chan had held back with her.

Why would Ruo Chan do this? Had she too developed genuine feelings?

Also, the years-old residual poison in her body—even she herself didn’t know where it came from. Many years ago, Ruo Chan and she were not acquainted. How could she clearly know what poison was in her body and know how to trigger it?

“Before Ruo Chan died, did she leave no words at all?” Qun Qing pressed.

Lu Huating said, “She did say that this poison needs no antidote. She also said she was born for you and would never betray you.”

Born for me… such strange words.

What was special about her?

If she had anything special, why would she have needed to serve Nan Chu in her previous life, drifting up and down until her last drop of blood was exhausted?

Qun Qing faintly felt that before her eyes there had always been a layer of enormous white curtain. In her previous life, she had never noticed it. Now it had several tears, and she had only just become aware of it, wanting to tear it open completely.

“Madam! Madam!”

Seeing Qun Qing directly throw back the covers and step barefoot onto the floor, the maids dared not pull her back and swarmed after her.

Qun Qing pushed open the door to Ruo Chan’s chamber.

The person had passed, but the room was tidied neatly and cleanly, obviously untouched by anyone. It seemed to preserve the breath of life. By the pillow lay the brightly colored sachet she had given Ruo Chan, unfinished embroidery samples, and two volumes on garment-making.

She had said she would recommend Ruo Chan to take the examination to enter the Palace Wardrobe Bureau.

Ruo Chan had not been unmoved—she had read the volumes before sleep.

Everyone caught up. Seeing her expression was unusual, Lu Huating didn’t stop her but only wrapped an outer garment around Qun Qing. Qun Qing, nearly exhausted of strength, leaned against the door frame yet said, “Search.”

Ruo Chan was meticulous and thorough in her actions. Qun Qing didn’t believe Ruo Chan would say two ambiguous sentences and willingly go to her death, leaving her an unfinished riddle.

The maids hesitated briefly, then all entered Ruo Chan’s chamber, turning boxes and cabinets upside down.

“Madam, we found it. Under the bed board, there’s a…” The maid closed her eyes and tremblingly handed over a folded, wrinkled piece of paper.

Qun Qing took the paper, silent for a moment, then opened it.

She was all too familiar with this paper—it was the kind used by Nan Chu to issue missions. More precisely, it was paper used to transmit messages to her, because below was the flying bird drawn by Mother—this was the secret code between their mother and daughter, though she no longer had the heart to examine it closely.

This was her actual mission.

No wonder that previous paper had changed format. At the time, she’d only thought Nan Chu had issued orders hastily and carelessly. Now it seemed Ruo Chan had intercepted her mission, switched it with her own, then pressed this paper under the bed board as an answer to give her.

On that paper wasn’t Weiran’s letter, but Fang Xie’s handwriting:

“Elder Sister, upon seeing this letter, a hundred feelings torment my heart! In the past, your mother with her woman’s body stole military secrets for the state and achieved great merit, already sealed with a first-rank patent of nobility. You are originally a phoenix feather pearl—how can you long sink in the northern abyss? Now heaven and earth have reversed, war has ignited, Chu will recover lost territory and march straight to Chang’an. In former years you protected me alone, and now you should enjoy glory and wealth. I, with the weight of the Nine Tripods, will welcome you with the ceremonial honor of an Imperial Grand Princess. The warmth of brocade curtains and embroidered tents can comfort years of drifting.

Bring the child to the Vermillion Bird Gate in the East Market, where a man in black robes will greet you with a jade pendant. Upon return, the misty rains of the Chu River are thick, fulfilling the feelings of our sibling separation. There is more to say that awaits our meeting in person.”

Qun Qing’s breathing became extremely rapid.

Lu Huating also read to the end, his eyes flashing slightly, also somewhat surprised.

However flowery the language, it was nothing more than a mission letter.

It urged Qun Qing to carry the Imperial Grand-grandson back to Nan Chu to facilitate using the rebel forces to help Nan Chu’s military situation. Ruo Chan’s mission should have been the same. If Qun Qing had done it, it would have perfectly fulfilled Fang Xie’s wishes; if she firmly refused, Ruo Chan as “Heaven” would have done it.

Only that young physician Fang Xie, though calling Qun Qing “Elder Sister” repeatedly, harbored feelings that exceeded propriety in his heart. By naming Qun Qing as Imperial Grand Princess, he established the hierarchy of seniority, thereby severing the possibility of romantic feelings between man and woman.

If this was meant to entice Qun Qing with benefits, the promise was too grand. Such abnormal circumstances immediately caused a heavy suspicion to flash through his mind.

Qun Qing closed the door. “Tidy up her belongings, pack them in boxes and keep them. Don’t burn them.”

She now understood what Ruo Chan had been doing.

A slight smile played at the corners of her mouth, then sank again, for the heavy sisterly bond amid betrayal and conspiracy.

Having intercepted her mission, Ruo Chan should have clearly known that Qun Qing would never carry it out. In this way, she had openly betrayed Nan Chu. Being a traitor, she inevitably became a thorn in the Zen Master’s eye.

Ruo Chan stepped forward to poison her and was first to abduct the Imperial Grand-grandson. When the matter spread, from Nan Chu’s perspective, it was Ruo Chan, this “Heaven,” who was vicious and evil, rashly advancing to claim credit, not hesitating to frame fellow agents, even nearly taking her life. The “Blood Children” had always been raised like venomous creatures from childhood, competing to be selected as poisonous snakes. Their nature was difficult to tame, they didn’t follow rules—suddenly going mad and biting back was quite normal.

Qun Qing, having been poisoned unconscious, was naturally the victim who couldn’t complete the mission.

Ruo Chan hadn’t betrayed her. Ruo Chan had protected her in her own way.

But Ruo Chan, why had she hidden the letter, not wanting her to see it?

What was she afraid she would see? What was she afraid she would know?

Also, there was a Blood Child born for her—why had she never known?

Returning to the desk, lowering her eyes again, gazing at these dizzying lines of text, the tempestuous waves in her heart had not ceased.

Qun Qing was very curious—Mother, a mere Wardrobe Palace maid with inconvenient legs and no martial skills, what exactly had she done to make Fang Xie use the description “great merit and achievement”?

Qun Qing’s face turned pale, but her eyes were extremely dark, thinking with almost cold calmness. She suddenly thought of something, rose to pick up the small bowl of plain congee a maid had brought, then searched on the desk for that book.

Opening it, several letters from Weiran were tucked inside.

That day, Lu Huating had asked her to keep correspondence from good friends and Mother. These letters had remained tucked here. One by one, the letters were spread flat on the desk surface. Qun Qing picked up her brush, dipped it in rice soup, and applied it to the papers.

It was the little trick Weiran had taught her at age eleven.

Text would appear on blank paper.

After several strokes, ink-colored writing spread in the water stains, but then several barely visible lines of small text appeared between the characters.

“Zhu Ying is the Zen Master, don’t come back!”

Six letters, six identical texts, like six mouths, crying out to her in unison.

Lu Huating’s breath caught. He immediately looked toward Qun Qing’s face.

All blood color had drained from her face. Her pair of eyes still stared fixedly at these words. She only felt her hair stand on end, completely unaware that her eyes had already overflowed with bright tears.

She had torn down the white curtain before her eyes, only to receive such a heavy blow in return.

Weiran had long hidden the answer, but unfortunately she hadn’t discovered it earlier.

Zhu Ying was the Zen Master—that’s why the Zen Master never showed her true face. That’s why Mother disappeared shortly after Princess Changping’s incident. After Qun Qing gave up restoration, she kept revealing her whereabouts yet wouldn’t let her find her. Finally appearing in Nan Chu, she manipulated her to prevent her from leaving the palace to hide her identity and waste a good spy.

She was the Zen Master’s daughter, so there was a Blood Child secretly protecting her. Last time when weapons clashed, the Zen Master’s blade deviated from her neck, sparing her.

Qun Qing tried to convince herself that Zhu Ying was the Zen Master.

But no, it still wasn’t right.

If Mother was the Zen Master, why did she always hide her identity from her? She was her mother!

She herself would rather take the wrong medicine than harm that nonexistent fetus. Qun Qing thought all mothers in the world loved their children like this. Yet how could Mother just watch her own child face death for Nan Chu repeatedly, covered in mutilations and scars, even losing her life?

Enormous grievance and resentment nearly tore her apart from within, making her tremble all over.

If one said the Zen Master was a cold-blooded, heartless person, yet Mother had clearly also held her, cared for her when ill, embroidered sachets to coax her, and they had spent warm and happy times as a family. She didn’t believe that was all performance.

“Why…” she said. “Why does she treat me this way?”

She had to find a reason that could convince herself.

Scalding tears kept falling. Lu Huating couldn’t bear to wipe them away and pulled her into his arms. “Listen to me—it may not be true. Don’t think about it for now.”

“You’re skilled with words—help me interpret.” Qun Qing persisted stubbornly. “What does ‘phoenix feather pearl sinking in the northern abyss’ mean? What is the meaning of Ling Yunnuo’s letter?”

Lu Huating was silent for a moment. “Imperial Grand Princess is not an ordinary title—it’s the Emperor’s elder sister or aunt. Ling Yunnuo has already taken power, the harem remains vacant. Could it be he’s unwilling to promise the position of Empress?”

“Is it because my mother is the Zen Master, her position surpasses the ruler, and she fought for this honor for me?” After a pause, Qun Qing squeezed out the words mockingly.

“Perhaps he truly dares not and cannot.” Lu Huating said. “Without old Chu imperial bloodline, how would he dare position you with dragon and phoenix? Your mother has royal blood, or else…”

Suddenly, countless scattered memories surged like a tide.

It was Yuming’s childhood bullying, the words he said while making faces on the bed: “Your mother, however good, isn’t my mother. I have my own mother!”

Grandfather’s first wife had died young with little fortune. When the marriage was bestowed, Mother was the second wife. They rarely mentioned this, probably because Zhu Ying’s status was also humble—a mere Wardrobe Palace maid who could marry a widowed fifth-rank official. Under Princess Changping’s favor and bestowed marriage, it was a common good match at the time.

But Shi Yuming had always resisted her in childhood. He shouted that she wasn’t his sister, even taking a beating for it.

Qun Qing recalled Shi Yu in the alley holding her kite. That tower-like figure turned around, looking at her with eyes full of affection yet unspeakable distance. Compared to his roughness toward Shi Yuming, Grandfather had never once scolded or criticized her.

His only interference with her was saying to Mother, “Why must you draw her into the vortex again? Just let her marry and have children in Chang’an, live an ordinary person’s life!”

She recalled her jet-black eyes and expression, not knowing from whom they came.

She recalled during palace festivals, Princess Changping holding her hand, looking at her with eyes both intimate and mysterious, and that extravagantly luxurious palace costume she bestowed that exceeded regulations.

After Yang Fu forcibly dressed her in palace costume, a pair of twin flowers appeared before the mirror—one brilliantly radiant, one coldly shadowed. Yang Fu’s delighted voice echoed in her ears now: “Doesn’t this look quite nice? You’re just like my sister!”

Sister, sister…

As the Zen Master, if Mother was so loyal to Princess Changping, willing to die for her, why did she have to leave the palace to marry and bear children?

She had never been content with an ordinary person’s life, never thought to live such a life, yet she had to marry because she was carrying her.

The Wastrel Emperor was promiscuous with countless consorts. Menial slaves, medicine-dispensing palace maids—anyone he fancied could not escape being bedded. By what method had the Zen Master stolen military intelligence in just a few short years, bit by bit eroding the Wastrel Emperor’s health, helping Princess Changping—whom the Wastrel Emperor guarded against—to rebel and seize power? All thanks to her identity as a Wardrobe Palace maid walking through the palace. Her mother had offered her own body just to make the Wastrel Emperor die sooner.

And all this was forced to suddenly stop because of her arrival.

Zhu Ying married Shi Yu carrying a pregnancy. The marriage was Princess Changping’s arrangement and consideration. Shi Yu knew tacitly and permitted it.

When Shi Yuming reached the age of first understanding, the young gentleman saw the new bride’s belly and transferred his anger to his sister—not Father’s child.

She was born wailing in such a family hiding secrets.

Shi Yu knew very clearly whose bloodline the baby in his arms carried. He respected and protected her, not daring to spoil her, not daring to dote on her, not daring to discipline, not daring to beat, not daring to embrace his daughter intimately like all fathers in the world.

Qun Qing thought, if she were Zhu Ying looking at the child in the cradle, her feelings must be very complicated.

She was the hindrance obstructing her grand plan, the burden consuming her essence and blood, and also the daughter of her father’s murderer, the Wastrel Emperor’s bloodline. Every aspect was disgusting.

Zhu Ying was indeed ruthless and cruel, and also a fierce woman.

How could she express her hatred to the maximum extent?

She decided to cultivate her into the most useful chess piece as a gift to the Wastrel Emperor.

So she hid her in the tower, not letting her face appear in the world. She spent over ten years cultivating her bit by bit. Reading widely, skilled in embroidery, medical knowledge for self-rescue, testing medicines and tasting poisons—she ground her unknowing self into a sharp sword.

Whether Mother ever softened was unknown, but what she perceived—the occasional resistant coldness emanating from Mother—turned out not to be an illusion after all.

Mother looked at her the way Xiao Yunru looked at that incomplete child she couldn’t abort.

Everything finally became crystal clear, finally settled like dust.

So Mother didn’t love her.

Mother hated her.

Lu Huating held Qun Qing tightly, silent for a long while, wishing he could take her place. She lay on his shoulder, finally sobbing and weeping like a small child, tears falling like rain.

“Madam! Madam!” Seeing Qun Qing cry herself into unconsciousness, the maids all crowded around. “Just recovering from serious illness, and not having eaten anything, she can’t withstand such sorrow.”

Lu Huating had already lifted her horizontally—light as a cloud—and placed her on the bed. He wiped the tears from her face with his hand and fed her some sugar water.

He knew what it felt like to be hurt by one’s closest person—piercing heartache, pain to the very core.

For Zhu Ying’s sake, he knew better than anyone how difficult Qun Qing’s journey had been. Now seeing her so shattered, the pain seemed to spread to his own heart.

Yet the one who hurt her was the birth mother who came before him. He couldn’t intervene.

In his heart, another layer of hatred was added toward the Zen Master.

“Sir, the expedition time has arrived. The Cavalry General is already outside the city. They’ve urged three and four times outside. There can be no more delay.” Zhu Su burst in to urge.

“You all understand what to tell the lady, right?” Lu Huating remained by the bed. “Seal the gate and close the doors. Let the lady recover her health.”

He turned around and called two young, lively maids near, saying softly, “Buy some velvet flowers and grasshoppers every day to cheer her up.”

Having said this, he went out, stepping into plum blossom petals covering the ground.

Unfortunately, Nan Chu was attacking Yunzhou. Military orders were as weighty as mountains. Otherwise, with Qun Qing not yet awake, how could he feel at ease leaving?

Because of what weighed on his heart, blood and qi surged up in his chest again. He swallowed it down.

In the front courtyard, luggage and horses were prepared. Juan Su remained behind while everyone else had donned full armor. Lu Huating mounted his horse and turned to stare at Zhu Su. “Did you obtain what I asked for?”

Zhu Su’s expression changed abruptly. “Sir, this substance harms the body. You shouldn’t… What if the lady finds out…”

Before he finished speaking, Lu Huating urged his horse forward. Ignoring Zhu Su’s struggles, he forcibly extracted the porcelain bottle from inside his chest guard, glanced at it once, and placed it in his bosom.

“The war situation is unpredictable. I have a chronic ailment that cannot flare up in that position. At best, we’ll lose cities. At worst, we’ll lose lives.”