How could this possibly work? Su Miao’s first reaction was to send Muyu to inform her cousin, but Shen Zhiluo beside her suddenly pulled her back into the carriage, half-lifting the curtain to bid farewell to Huayue: “We’ll come tomorrow at noon.”

Huayue nodded, smiling as she stood at the gate to see them off. Su Miao, furious, grabbed at Shen Zhiluo’s sleeve: “How can you act this way—even if you don’t hope for my sister-in-law and my cousin to reconcile, she’s still your former lover after all, how can you let her wander about while pregnant like this?”

Lowering the carriage curtain, Shen Zhiluo glanced at her sideways: “Why would I not hope for their happiness?”

“Nonsense.” Su Miao put her hands on her hips, chin raised in anger. “You never wanted my sister-in-law to marry my cousin from the very start.”

“That’s because they weren’t suited for each other.” Shen Zhiluo said calmly. “Whether it’s your cousin or anyone else’s cousin, if it’s not a good match, it’s simply not a good match, and there’s no good outcome to it. Why would I want her to marry him? If it were truly a match made in heaven, I wouldn’t have said a single word against it.”

Slightly stumped, Su Miao frowned: “You’re just twisting words—is there really a better household in all the capital than my cousin’s?”

“Your cousin is a good household, so why did your sister-in-law end up in this cold courtyard?” He glanced at her, shaking his head lightly. “If she stays here any longer, the child in her belly will be born here too, growing up estranged from its father for life, husband and wife driven apart, flesh and blood turned to enemies—is that what you want to see?”

Her fury somewhat deflated, Su Miao eyed him suspiciously: “Is that really what you think?”

“How else would I think of it?” Shen Zhiluo said, exasperated. “Would I really think along the lines of romantic entanglements for a married woman?”

Honestly, that was exactly what Su Miao had been thinking, but seeing his expression as if looking at a fool, she pouted and dropped the thought.

If he wasn’t thinking that way, and thought it fine for her sister-in-law to be out and about, then maybe her sister-in-law just wanted to get some fresh air and clear her head somewhere. Su Miao thought that since they’d already agreed, she’d go check tomorrow, have someone accompany her, and that would count as being accountable to her cousin.

However, the next day at noon, by the time they arrived at the small courtyard, Huayue was already gone.

The night before, Huayue had already prepared herself—since Xiao Li had followed her, someone would surely come looking for her to talk, though she hadn’t expected the group to arrive so quickly. She hadn’t even had time to leave word with Shuang Jiang before she was blindfolded and bound onto a carriage.

She didn’t struggle, kneeling obediently in the carriage. If not for her bound hands and covered eyes, Xiao Li would truly have thought she was out on a pleasure trip.

Worried it might be a trick, he lifted the black cloth over her eyes to check, and found himself meeting Huayue’s bewildered gaze.

“My lord intends to take me where?” she said in a low voice. “This humble one is with child, and naturally won’t struggle—I only ask that my lord grant a swift end, whether I live or die.”

By protocol, Xiao Li wasn’t supposed to speak with her at this point, but this young lady looked so pitiably delicate, spoke so clearly, and yet her eyes had already reddened, her shoulders trembling as she looked at him—about as pitiful a sight as one could imagine.

After some thought, Xiao Li still said: “My master has something to ask the young lady, and would like to invite you to his residence as a guest. This was originally to spare the young lady alarm and avoid disturbing the night curfew. Since the young lady is neither shouting nor struggling, these ropes can be undone.”

With that, two maids beside him stepped forward to untie her, helping her to sit on a cushioned seat.

Huayue thanked him, then curiously asked: “Which household does your master belong to?”

Xiao Li smiled without answering, only saying: “Guests are rarely received in our household—I do hope the young lady will observe proper etiquette. If you cause trouble for my master, neither of us will fare well.”

The words were spoken politely enough, but there was a chill running through every syllable, creeping up one’s spine. Huayue shrank back slightly, her face full of alarm, not daring to ask further.

Xiao Li was quite satisfied with this reaction, leading her to an outer side room within the Central Palace, settling her in properly, and assigning maids to look after her before returning to report.

If it had been anyone else, they wouldn’t have recognized where they were until brought right to the gate, since the side room was simple, no different from the wing rooms of an ordinary residence outside. But Huayue recognized this place, and sitting here felt more comfortable to her than most other places would have.

Feng Zixi had said before that the Central Palace was desperate enough to grasp at any straw—she’d thought it an exaggeration, but it turned out to be an understatement. She hadn’t even received Li Jingyun’s divorce papers, and yet the Central Palace had dared to bind and bring her here directly—it must truly be that there was no other way.

But someone as out of favor as her—being bound like this hardly mattered. Even if Li Jingyun found out, he likely wouldn’t do anything about it toward the Central Palace.

Huayue settled comfortably into the side room, from time to time sitting by the window to cry for a while, telling the two maids beside her about her miserable life since Madam Zhuang’s passing. When the maids asked, she told them in detail how Desheng had bribed Luo Xi to harm Madam Zhuang.

Consort Yao and the Central Palace were bitter rivals, and Madam Zhuang, whom Consort Yao disliked, had become the Princess Imperial’s close friend. Earlier, because of the matter with Han Shuang, the Princess Imperial had severed ties with the General’s residence, but now that Madam Zhuang had died, and the cause of death was unfavorable to the Eastern Palace, the Princess Imperial immediately took up the cause of avenging her close friend—after all, she was a titled lady, how could she die so unclearly?

There was no evidence, but there were witnesses. The Princess Imperial reported this matter to the Emperor, even hinting that the Eastern Palace had long used such methods to harm people. The Emperor showed little reaction, since after all, only a titled lady had died—he simply had the servant from the Eastern Palace beheaded, unwilling to stir up further complications.

As a result, the Seventh Prince passed away at just this moment.

Huayue sat comfortably in the side room when she suddenly heard wailing erupt outside. She opened the window to look and saw servants and palace attendants kneeling all over the ground, mournful cries piercing through half the palace.

The Seventh Prince had been destined to die sooner or later, but for it to happen at this particular moment felt rather too sudden.

The moment Wen Guzhi received the news, he went to the General’s residence looking for someone, only to find Third Young Master sitting in the main room, staring blankly at a painting on the wall.

He followed his gaze and saw a painting of a woman coquettishly leaning against a man, the two of them reclining together on a soft couch, deeply affectionate.

His eyebrow twitching, he said: “This painter isn’t bad, captured it vividly.”

Even the faint mole beside Yin Huayue’s face had been rendered.

Withdrawing his gaze, Li Jingyun said, somewhat uncomfortable: “What are you doing here all of a sudden?”

“The Seventh Prince has passed—by custom, you should go pay respects at the palace.” Wen Guzhi said. “But His Majesty erupted in fury in the imperial study, and none of the officials dare approach.”

“Oh?” Li Jingyun rose to change behind the screen, undoing his sash as he asked, “Who ran afoul this time?”

Wen Guzhi answered: “The Crown Prince.”

His hand pausing on the sash tie, Li Jingyun’s expression grew complicated: “Fortune never comes in pairs, misfortune never comes alone.”

“This is a man-made disaster.” Wen Guzhi shrugged. “Someone reported to His Majesty that the Seventh Prince died from Zhefei paste.”

Those three words sounded familiar. Li Jingyun pondered for a moment, then suddenly wrapped his robe around himself and went out to grab Badou and question him.

Badou said guiltily: “Nothing much has happened, only the young miss has moved over there.”

“And the young mistress?”

Glancing at him, Badou lowered his head.

Feeling an involuntary sinking in his chest, Li Jingyun gripped his wrist bones, saying coldly: “Speak quickly.”

“The young mistress… hasn’t been seen for some time, and there’s been no word from the guesthouse either.” Badou said quietly. “Perhaps she’s resting indoors, this servant hasn’t gone to check.”

Wen Guzhi, following behind him, saw the expression on his face and couldn’t help but laugh: “Why the sudden urgency, Third Young Master? She’s been at the guesthouse this whole time, and you’ve never once gone to visit—why the sudden concern now?”

“Zhefei paste.” Li Jingyun said coldly. “In your view, with the palace full of imperial physicians, would they allow a sick prince to take Zhefei paste long-term without noticing?”

“They wouldn’t.” Wen Guzhi shook his head. “The Seventh Prince has the Empress watching over him—everything he takes is tested by someone first.”

Hearing this news today, he immediately understood someone wanted to drag the Crown Prince down with this.

“So, Zhefei paste is just a smokescreen. The Central Palace wants to pin a crime on the Eastern Palace—given the chance, even if it meant forcing Zhefei paste down the Seventh Prince’s own throat, the Empress would do it. And when the investigation comes, it will only lead back to the Eastern Palace.” Li Jingyun said. “Besides, Han Shuang has known about this substance from the very start.”

His expression gradually turning serious, Wen Guzhi thought the matter through from beginning to end, narrowing his eyes slightly: “The Central Palace is still short a few more people to help lodge accusations.”

Like breaking down a whole department, a single incident alone wasn’t enough weight—several people needed to accuse together, and their status couldn’t be too low. And as for who was currently most favored at court—

He looked at the man before him.

Li Jingyun, deep in thought about something, his expression exceptionally serious, rose and strode outside, mounting his horse the moment he stepped out and galloping off with a crack of the whip.

Su Miao was locked in a standoff with Shen Zhiluo in the courtyard, wanting to go out to find Huayue, but Shen Zhiluo wouldn’t allow it.

“Do you really intend to keep me locked up forever?” She glared at him. “A forced melon isn’t sweet—those were your own words, taught to me long ago.”

Shen Zhiluo, too lazy to even lift his eyelids, blocked her path: “Quenching thirst isn’t bad either, whether it’s sweet or not.”

Listen to that—was that something a cultivator of the Dao should say? Su Miao, furious enough to stomp her feet, reached out and punched him in the chest.

Though she was a young lady, she’d grown up around the training grounds since childhood, and this punch was by no means light. It landed on his chest with a “thump” sound. Shen Zhiluo stepped back half a pace, his face suddenly turning pale.

Somewhat embarrassed, withdrawing her hand, Su Miao frowned guiltily: “Whoever told you not to move out of the way, serves you right for it hurting.”

Shen Zhiluo shook his head, seeming to sigh, turning his body slightly to the side before opening his mouth and spitting out a mouthful of crimson.

Blood splattered on the ground, a small pool, staining the edge of Su Miao’s skirt.

Panicking, Su Miao rushed to support him, gritting her teeth and stamping her foot: “Your body was already frail to begin with, and you didn’t even dodge that blow—are you trying to guilt-trip me?”

“Mn.” He lowered his eyes halfway, responding indifferently.

Her heart lurching inexplicably, Su Miao looked away in a fluster, pulling at him: “Let’s get you inside first to find Li Yun to take a look at you.”

Watching her out of the corner of his eye, Shen Zhiluo said calmly: “Didn’t you say that whoever felt sorry for me was a fool?”

“If I weren’t a fool, would I have fallen for you?” Su Miao retorted, pushing him firmly into a chair before lifting her skirt and hurrying off to find Li Yun.

By the time Li Jingyun stepped through the door, he saw Shen Zhiluo sitting in the main seat, cradling his ever-present cosmic compass, thumb pressed against a trace of blood at the corner of his lips, smiling faintly.